Where The Fae Sun Rises
by SeraFaerosa
Summary: Bo has never faced an adversary like this before. It will take her, it will break her, it will tear her apart. And there's nothing Bo can do to stop it. How do you beat an adversary when the adversary is yourself? And just who is Bo's father? Book Two of Profaecy. AU reimagining of Bo's Dawning.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: For those of you just joining us, Book 1 of Profaecy is available on my account page, and is titled Faevor for a Faevor.

Alright, here it is, Chapter 1 of Where the Fae Sun Rises, Book 2 of Profaecy. This story has evolved immensely since its conception. It is actually entirely unrecognizable from the original outline I had constructed for it. It's been a trip writing it, and I've loved writing every minute of it. It has been challenging, gruesome, heart wrenching and inspiring to write it, and not least because of the inspiring work that is put into the show by its writers, cast, and crew. There are some huge deviations from the story of course, some less small deviations, and in some parts, I've actually written in some well-loved scenes from the show because they were so damn perfect and because I felt it was important to reinforce or present them from a different perspective than (I at least) had originally viewed them in.

For all you fellow Doccubus shippers reading this: we are kin in our hopes and dreams for the OTP. Doccubus is and always will be (at least in this series) endgame. There will be hardships, but stick with it, that's what true loyalty is all about. ;)

Regardless, I am both elated and terrified to share Book 2 of Profaecy with you. Please, I beg you: review, criticize, opine and dream. Your comments mean the world to me, and I'm on the edge of my seat to hear your opinions of this crazy little story. I promise, I will continue posting until the story reaches its end. I won't balk, I will finish what I've started so long as there's even one person out there that wants me to (and I know of at least one, thank you for all your unrelenting support, again, you know who you are!) Thank you to all of you, whether you've left your mark in comment/favorite/kudos-form or not. Whoever you are, I love you. ;) And thank you.

And now, with one last (less verbose) further ado, I present Where the Fae Sun Rises:

Disclaimer: I do not own Lost Girl; no copyright infringement is intended.

Once again, my work is unbeta-ed, so any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

* * *

Bo reveled in mornings like these. The sun trickled in through the heavy drapes that lined her wall, dust motes drifted languidly in the thin shafts of sunlight that fell molten, sweet, and fresh onto the scuffed wooden floors of her bedroom. The sheets rustled, twisted between her legs, and the air was rich and heavy with the warm haze of last night's love making. Bird song warbled outside the windows, and a breeze brushed against the glass, rattling it gently and providing a tender, organic wake-up call that was made perfect by the sensual sensation of silken legs sliding between hers, and the whisper of hair as it shifted upon the pillow.

A smile curled across her lips, her eyelids fluttered, and a warm, powerful need throbbed between her thighs. She feigned sleep, if only to completely lose herself in the hot, moist kisses that trailed slowly, tantalizingly, down her neck. A tongue swirled in lazy figure eights across her skin, and the mouth that drifted from her earlobe to her shoulder paused to nip teasingly before swooping along her collarbone to continue its pilgrimage once again, from the base of her neck up to the soft, sensitized patch of skin behind her other ear.

Strong, firm fingers skimmed along the curve of one breast, and Bo couldn't suppress a gasp of pleasure at the sharp, electric sensation of one of her nipples being pinched between forefinger and thumb.

Bo felt a smirk curve the lips of her lover, warm breath ghosted along the shell of her ear, and she wrapped her arms around the woman that shared her bed, the fingers of one hand buried and tangled immediately in the long, thick tresses that cascaded down into her face.

"Good morning," her lover's voice, husky with sleep and want, sent shivers down Bo's spine. Her skin thrummed with pleasure, warmth flooded the space between her thighs again, throbbing with hungry, aching desire. Silky lips closed over her earlobe, and Bo sucked in a sharp breath when a tongue gently, teasingly, flicked the soft, tiny fold of skin between pinching teeth.

"Good morning, indeed," Bo murmured back. Her hand tightened around the curls clenched between her fingers, and she rolled in bed to trap her lover beneath her. Their lips met and fastened as Bo moved, and she shifted her weight to one side, rolling her hips against her lover's, and pulled one leg up to bury her thigh in the slick heat that trickled and dripped between her lover's legs. Her tongue slid across pliant lips, gasping with pleasure and swelling already with the passionate kisses Bo massaged into them, and they opened for her: hot, and humid and ready to be completely plundered. One strong arm wrapped around Bo, the other pressed between their chests, and a delicate touch brushed her cheekbone.

Bo pulled a hair's breadth away, her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled into the adoring, feather-light kisses her lover touched briefly to her lips. They finally fell away, and a pair of dazzling, deep green eyes looked up at her, sleepy and blissful and hooded with want.

"Breakfast?" her Thrall's voice was breathy and electric with the desire that flared in a white hot aura around the slender, silken body writhing beneath Bo's powerful touch.

"That," Bo dug her fingers into the trembling, muscled thigh between her own legs and pulled it up against the heat that coiled and pulsed there, "is why you are my favorite."

A low, sharp gasp escaped Inari at the sensation of slick heat sliding down her smooth, warm skin. Bo's lips curled into a satisfied smirk, her head dipped to the arching curve of Inari's neck where she blazed her own trail of hot, wet kisses and playful nips. Inari's porcelain skin was so soft beneath Bo's lips, and the way it flushed immediately under her mouth sent a hot shiver of arousal down Bo's spine that gathered and culminated in the sensitive bundle of nerves that throbbed with every urgent rhythmic thrust of Inari's hips against her own, with every sliding movement of Inari's thigh pressed tightly against her hot, dripping walls. With every thrust, Inari's smooth skin rubbed deliciously against her, and every touch, every stroke that tapped the sensitive nub of her clitoris sent a delicious current of hot, quivering ecstasy bursting through her.

Inari gasped in pleasure beneath her, and Bo moaned in reply, their carnal expressions of hedonistic indulgence mingling and melting together in the steamy, shuddering air around them. Thin, delicate fingers tangled and tightened in Bo's hair, her scalp tingled where Inari tugged, and Inari arched beneath her, pressing her sweat-soaked, gloriously naked body against Bo's. Hard, pebbled nipples pressed against skin, slender, muscled legs wound and twisted with each other and the sheets and the bed creaked beneath their writhing, cadenced movement. Beads of sweat slid and slipped along hot, bare flesh. Blue light glowed beneath Bo's closed eyelids, she raised her head a little to fasten her mouth to Inari's again, her tongue pushed between Inari's teeth to coil against Inari's own.

Inari moaned into the kiss, her hips ground against Bo's, releasing wave after wave of sizzling, sticky pleasure in them both. The Kitsune cried out in ecstasy at the erotic, carnal sensation of Chi rising, flooding her throat, and passing, sweet and coiling, past her teeth, her lips, and into Bo's open, wanting mouth. One grasping hand found Bo's breast, flicked the pebbled mound of her nipple, and her fingers tightened around the firm, silken flesh. She felt, rather than heard, the low, growling groan Bo uttered in response, the guttural echo smothered and lost between lips and tongues and thick, hot, coiling energy. Nails scraped across Bo's toned shoulders, Inari's back arched again into the pleasure that shook her small, slender body, and she bucked her hips again against Bo's with a grunt. Wet heat trickled down the thigh clenched between Bo's legs, and their bodies parted for a brief, excruciating second as Bo slipped one hand between them.

Sweat gathered and shimmered in a thin film around them. Inari's Chi tasted like ripe, juicy blackberries to Bo's hungry mouth. Bo hummed in appreciation, the moan escaping her velvety and husky. It dragged a shiver across Inari's skin, drawing her ever closer to the epic climax that always left her breathless and spent and hungry for more. She gasped into the kiss and drew herself up to deepen it. Lips skimmed between nipping teeth, tongues pulsed and throbbed against each other, warm, humid breath crashed and gathered in a tantric, erratic beat against cheeks and mouths and thick, mahogany hair that fell in a curling, frizzy waterfall around their faces. Bo's fingers slid between hot, slick folds, teasing, taunting, there and gone, until Bo buried two digits knuckle-deep into Inari's throbbing, aching center, and Inari cried out in rapture, her back arched, and she pushed hard into Bo's hand. Inari rocked herself against the fingers that twisted and curled into the trembling, wildly pulsating walls within her, she bit into Bo's shoulder and tasted the salty brine of Bo's sweat on her tongue, the hand that grasped Bo's breast squeezed tightly, eliciting a sharp gasp from Bo that washed hot air over her shoulder, and her other hand fell to the mattress beneath her, the fingers digging into the dampened silk sheets and her whole body thrumming with screaming, molten bliss. Inari uttered a final cry, muffled beneath the shoulder clenched between her teeth and, jerking riotously against the hand that slammed irregularly in and out of her she fell, finally, dizzy and trembling and careening over the edge.

Bo's mouth fell on Inari's again in a searing kiss that made the Kitsune's eyes roll back in her head, and pulled deliciously, mind-numbingly, at the sweet, erotic Chi Bo feasted on. Every hot, sweaty inch of Inari's body tingled with pleasure, and though her muscles ached with sweet release and felt heavy and slow, Inari moved against Bo. The thigh still clenched between Bo's legs writhed, tearing a long, low moan from Bo's throat that shivered between their melded, swollen lips. Inari pressed the tip of a finger to the slick, swollen bud that bumped and ground against her thigh, and the effect of that gentle touch sent a spasm across Bo's body that only served to reignite the burning embers of Inari's lust.

The last, sweet shreds of Inari's Chi slipped between Bo's lips. The Succubus glowed with power and sensuality and ground her hips against Inari's again. The Kitsune's fingers rubbed deliberately, expertly, against her over-sensitized clitoris, spreading scorching, sticky want over the throbbing bundle of nerves, and ecstasy speared through Bo's trembling body. She broke their heated kiss, and her eyes, thundering electric blue, connected with Inari's heavy-lidded, lust-filled gaze. The hungry desire in Inari's hot stare, the tongue that licked across red, swollen lips and the hot-blooded blush that flushed Inari's pale, ceramic skin pulled Bo close, dangled her over the edge she'd already thrown Inari over. With a heavy, gasping pant, she arched into the teasing thumb that Inari rubbed dexterously over slick, stiffened skin and jolted violently into the three, rigid fingers that slid deep into her. Sweet release rushed hot and wet, soaking Inari's fingers, scorching the soft skin with the urgency she had sated. Bo threw her head back, thick, silken curls crashed in a heavy wave around her neck and shoulders, and her eyelids fell with the heady, dizzying climax. Her lips parted, swollen and red, in a final cry of pleasure that tore from her throat and then fell into a low, throaty moan. Bo's arms trembled, she draped herself across Inari's heaving chest and pressed a wet kiss to the swell of her lover's breast. They lay, panting and trembling in one another's arms for a long, languorous moment, wrapped in an orgasmic haze of sweat, and heat and gratification.

Inari moved to bury herself deeper, lower, in Bo's arms, and pressed a tender, doting kiss to the nape of Bo's neck, her mouth humming with satisfaction and absolute, sensual bliss. Slowly, tantalizingly, she withdrew her fingers from Bo's throbbing center, and with her open, lust-filled stare locked with Bo's, licked and sucked her hot, sweet climax from her skin. Then they shifted, settling to lie side by side, still tangled in one another and the hot, twisted bed sheets. With a gratified, victorious grin spread wide across her lips, Inari nuzzled further into Bo's neck, enfolded by the heavy brown curls that draped and mingled with her own bright red locks. Her cleaned, damp fingers hovered along the curves of Bo's body and dipped into the valley of her waist, feather-light and adoring.

"Again?" Inari murmured into her Mistress' sweat dampened skin, eliciting a throaty, appreciative chuckle from the Succubus that sent shivers of excitement racing up and down her spine.

Bo's fingers pulsed with warm energy, she flattened a palm against the small of Inari's back and curled down to capture Inari's lips in a long, seductive kiss. When they parted, a current of azure electricity flashed and burned behind rich mahogany eyes, and a smile curled across Bo's swollen, flushing lips.

"If you insist…" she purred. Her fingers wound again in Inari's thick, silken scarlet mane, and their mouths crashed together in burning, wanton abandon.

* * *

_It was dark. Bo could feel her heart slam against her ribcage, her fingers shook with the resonance of her blood pounding heavy and anxious throughout her whole body. Her lips were dry, she licked them nervously and stepped a little closer to the door that hung open just a sliver, and drew in a deep, faltering breath. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door, her face twisted into an uneasy frown, and she slid the door open a little further. _

_A pale ribbon of light streamed in from the hallway, but the room was so dark, all it illuminated was the scuffed wooden floor, a cracked wall, and a pair of discarded black boots, empty and purposeless without the perfect pair of little, elegant feet to fill them. Bo had edged in through the newly widened gap, squinting into the darkness in an attempt to pick out the slender, ballerina figure curled under the sheets within._

"_Kenzi?" she whispered, so softly she was sure she hadn't been heard. But movement rustled under the sheets, and Bo's eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness of her best friend's bedroom. Her nostrils flared nervously, she left the door cracked open behind her and took another, tentative step inside._

"_Kenzi, are you awake?" she spoke a little louder, her voice barely carrying through the cool shadows to the form shifting into wakefulness on the big, four-poster queen-sized bed. Bo could hear the soft, slow intake of a deep breath, and then the tiny, fragile woman curled under her sheets moved into a slumped sit. _

"_Yeah, Bo. I'm here," Kenzi's voice sounded pale and groggy in the murky darkness. A flash of fair, creamy skin caught Bo's eye, and a paper-thin wave of relief swelled for an instant through her at the gesture to come in, to join her. Bo slipped to the bedside, her bare feet padding almost silently across the warm, wooden boards, and the bed creaked in protest as she crawled in over the sheets beside her best friend._

_Arms circled her, warm, and thin, and comforting. Bo slipped her legs under the sheets and curled into Kenzi, her own arms winding around her slender body and her face pressed into the warm contours of Kenzi's neck, where it sloped to her shoulder._

"_I'm so sorry, Kenz," Bo mumbled into the dark, ruffled locks of hair that tumbled around her face and tickled her nose. Kenzi smelled warm, and thick, and heady, like sleep. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered softly into the dark, eyes squeezed shut against the painful memories that had plagued her for hours, against the horrifying guilt that twisted like a knife in her gut. Thin fingers stroked Bo's hair, Kenzi's breath whispered against her ear, and Bo felt another wave of guilt hit her for waking Kenzi when she'd been needing her rest so badly, because Bo selfishly needed her best friend to tell her that everything was going to be okay. _

_The blind darkness of the bedroom weighed heavily on Bo's shoulders, dense with the silence that followed Bo's quiet apology. The fingers that brushed through Bo's hair paused, and Bo wondered, hoped, that Kenzi had only fallen asleep again, that a condemnatory shove wouldn't follow, that Kenzi wouldn't hate her for the betrayal, the abandonment she must have felt, trapped and alone in a cave for more than a day._

_When Kenzi spoke again, her words were so cracked, so tired and sad, Bo felt her heart break in her chest._

"_It's okay, Bo. You needed to help Lauren," Kenzi's fingers resumed their soothing rhythm caressing Bo's hair while she spoke, and Bo pressed herself harder into Kenzi's thin frame, willing her best friend to know, to understand, how much she loved her._

"_I needed to help you," Bo's words splintered with the tears that choked her throat and threatened to spill down her cheeks. It sapped her strength to pull away from Kenzi, but she needed her to see the regret, the love, the relief that dampened Bo's cheeks and stretched her lips into a twisted, anguished frown. "I needed to help both of you. But I didn't. I couldn't."_

_Bo couldn't describe to either Kenzi or Lauren what it had been like to feel her humanity depressed into a tiny ball of consciousness that could not act, that did not want to feel. She had known how she felt, had known that she felt the intoxicating pull Lauren had always had on her, had known that she was terrified for Kenzi, but couldn't commit to it, couldn't act upon it. She had known that they held the power to make her commit to it. And she had avoided confronting both in order to cling to the part of her that never suffered emotion, that wasn't human. The longer she remained the monster, the harder she struggled to lose her humanity, because regaining it would ultimately destroy her._

_But seeing Kenzi, dirty, disheveled, and still fighting, had flipped a switch. Instead of struggling to lose her humanity, she struggled to regain it. Even if it meant that regaining it would destroy her. Even knowing that what she'd done would break her._

_Bo stared into Kenzi's eyes, willing her to understand, knowing that she couldn't, not really. They glittered in the darkness, unreadable and black under the suffocating shadows of her bedroom. Bo could barely make out the contours of her cheek and the pale outline of her hair falling around her face. Bo's lips trembled in the oppressive silence, she had to say something, if only to break the tense quiet._

"_I'm so sorry, Kenzi," Bo's words were mangled by the regret and self-loathing that tore at her heart, still beating rebelliously in her chest._

_Forgiveness flickered in Kenzi's opaque eyes, and the beautiful, strong, loyal human leaned in to pull Bo into another tight embrace, quietly hushing the sob that wracked Bo's body and tightening her arms around the guilt-ridden woman that begged for clemency._

"_It's okay, Bo," Kenzi repeated, her words softer, kinder than Bo believed she deserved, "I'm okay. Everything's gonna be okay."_

_Bo huddled into Kenzi's arms, her lips pressed to Kenzi's warm skin, her eyes squeezed shut against the memory of Kenzi turning up in the dungeon, caked with dirt, her hair tangled and mascara dried in dark runs down her pallid cheeks. "You are my heart, Kenzi," Bo mumbled, the words tumbling out unbidden but sincere, "I love you, so much…" she trailed off, wishing with every fiber of her iniquitous soul that she could take away all the pain she had caused the woman in her arms and carry it for her._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**:

Guest: I'm glad you enjoyed the last story, and I'm so pleased to have you back for this one! This story is going to be a very strange, sometimes very disturbing trip, and I hope you enjoy it at least as much as you did the last one. It might not be until chapter 4 before the context of some of the scenes in chapters 1-3 become really clear but if you're attentive and intuitive, you might get it as early as the beginning of this chapter!

Leader: The friendship bits between Bo and Kenzi were some of my favorites to write. I ship their friendship more than I've shipped any other, so getting to write some best friend bonding and love was so wonderful. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Like I told Guest, the context of Bo and Inari in bed together will get clearer as we go along, and will be pretty explicit by the end of chapter 4. I can't say what's going on with Bo and Lauren without giving spoilers, and I can't promise anything yet. All I can say is that there will be some wonderful moments for Bo and Lauren in this story, and that there will be some very difficult ones too. As difficult as drama can be, it is necessary to create conflict for the story. But Doccubus is very much my OTP. That being said, that was the first really smutty sex scene I've ever written, so I'm ecstatic you found it hot. Thanks! =D

* * *

By the time Bo had finally managed to leave her bed, with Inari lying twisted with the sheets and asleep in a haze of satisfaction and exhaustion, the sun had fully risen in a sky that was crisp and blue and cloudless, and it was already almost noon. She padded barefoot from her bedroom down the waxed hardwood steps, dressed only in a royal purple kimono, and slipped into the sunroom that opened up in the middle of the house. It was awash in light and color, flowers grew along the walls in splashes of pinks, and reds and purples, golds and pale, powdery blues. Ivy curled and wound along the walls and light fixtures, sprawled across the rough, white-washed surface like a lazy cat soaking in the sun. A playful breeze whipped Bo's thick, ruffled hair and brushed against her skin like the sigh of a lover, and Bo tilted her chin up, eyes fluttering closed, to relish the light, affectionate sensation with the heightened sense that only blindness could offer.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Aife's voice carried clearly through the crisp, cool air. She lounged at the small patio table and chairs she and her husband had set up in the corner of the little in-house garden, close by the fountain that bubbled and splashed cheerfully, and sipped at a glass filled with golden tea and hazy cubes of ice. Thin leaves and springs of mint were crushed between the ice and the glass, Bo could imagine how wonderfully refreshing the cold, sweet drink would taste after the steamy affair she'd left slumbering in her bed.

The sound of a newspaper crinkling between large, strong hands drew Bo's attention as she picked her way carefully over the smooth, warm flagstones that led to the little iron table. Her father lowered his newspaper from his face, his eyes half-concealed behind the flash of reading glasses Bo knew he only wore for style, to smile indulgently and distractedly at his daughter as she approached.

"We were discussing sending Walter upstairs to see if you wanted breakfast, until your mother reminded me you had that well taken care of," his deep, smooth baritone voice, lilting with the musical intonations of a fading Irish accent, resonated pleasantly in Bo's chest, she smiled at her daddy and dropped into an empty chair opposite both her parents.

Fruit piled in wooden bowls on the table before her, still dewy from the quick, cold wash they'd been given under the fountain's sweet, chilled water. Dark red grapes, their skins hazy and tight to bursting with dry, sweet juice, bunched over fuzzy-skinned peaches and ruddy plums. Blueberries scattered amongst raspberries, mixed with blackberries and strawberries and tiny, browning slices of banana mingled in a little glass bowl beside, and a small silver platter of white and yellow cheeses spread invitingly before her. Aife offered her a woven basket of bread. It smelled warm, freshly baked. Bo leaned over the table to accept a small cut before leaning back into her chair and settling her feet over the thick metal wire crisscrossed under the table as a decorative support.

"Inari certainly doesn't disappoint," Bo grinned into the tiny bite she took from her bread. Its crust was crisp and crunchy, its meat, soft and warm. She reached for a small slice of yellow cheese and nibbled delicately at its edge.

"Don't satisfy yourself too much," Jack looked over the edge of his newspaper again. His dark brown eyes, so like Bo's own, twinkled with anticipation and domestic contentment, "don't forget, we have plans at the Dal Riata tonight. To celebrate La Shoshain."

A smile curled across Bo's lips, cat-like, almost feral.

"Sweetheart, when have you ever known our daughter to ever be fully satisfied?" Aife's voice was light, merry, and she sent her daughter a conspiratorial wink.

Bo smiled back and allowed her eyes to flutter closed, her head tilted to the sun, her forearms rested over the cool iron arms of her chair and her hair whispered softly in the gentle, regulated breeze that dipped and riffled through the roofless aviary. Her lungs filled with sweet air, flavored with the light, honeyed aroma of the flora that surrounded her, and she let it out with a deep sigh of contentment. God… life was so good.

* * *

_As they withdrew from one another, Bo's fingers lingered along the mussed strands of Kenzi's ebony hair, the tips tickled her skin where they brushed. Bo's lip trembled at the thought that she may have lost her best friend, her sister, forever._

_She needed the contact. Craved it. Ached to curl up beside Kenzi and listen to her slow, regulated breathing while she slept, to bathe in the thick, spiced vanilla smell she exuded while she slumbered. Her chest tightened. She knew losing Kenzi would tear her apart. How could she have left her for so long, alone and neglected, ignored, taken for granted?_

_Kenzi settled back into her pillows and pulled her sheets up to her chin. Even under the heavy blanket of darkness, Bo could see black caverns yawning under her eyes, could see the lines of exhaustion spread across her young face. Kenzi had lied: she wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. She had given up so much for Bo, had left herself behind somewhere, had given it to Nate to take away with him when he left the city, believing that Kenzi hadn't loved him._

_Bo swallowed the thick lump that had knotted in her throat, her vision blurred, though she could barely see in the blackness of Kenzi's bedroom anyway. She shifted in the bed, watching while Kenzi settled herself to go back to sleep, knowing she should leave and allow her best friend to rest. She licked her lips again, dampening the dry, chapped skin and hesitated before slipping her legs off the edge of the bed. The light that fell through the crack in the door looked so cold to her, devoid of the best friend she had forsaken, of the lover she had damaged, of family, of comfort, of all the things that made Bo human._

"_Kenz," she whispered, falteringly, into the darkness. Her lips pressed together tightly, her fingers dug into the mattress they'd dropped to when Kenzi had pulled away. Her pulse throbbed under her skin like runaway horses beating through sand._

"_Hmm…?" Kenzi was already half-asleep. Bo could hear the whisper of her hair against the pillow as she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, to find the warmth she must have abandoned to embrace Bo, to comfort and console her._

"_Can I sleep here, tonight?" Bo turned away from the silver shaft of light that pierced the familiar, enveloping darkness to look down at the silhouette that curled in soft, accentuated lines on the bed beside her. She hesitated, shy and afraid, but desperate to stay beside her best friend for a little longer, even if only to sleep, and be close, "Please?"_

_Sheets rustled against skin. Kenzi shifted again, her eyes bleary and glistening in the light that reflected from the cracked wall and scuffed wooden floors, and moved to make space for another body beside her. Her arms opened to Bo, looking heavy with the exhaustion that weighed her slender limbs down._

"_Yeah, babe. Of course," Kenzi's voice was hoarse, not only with the sleep that eluded her, but with unshed tears and the cavernous ache she'd felt, missing her best friend, wishing Bo would come back for her, "come here." Bo pulled herself back onto the bed and slid under the sheets, her arms immediately winding around Kenzi and her nose burying into the warm crown of Kenzi's head. Relief and gratitude spread through Bo, hot and sharp. She didn't see that the bandages that wrapped around Kenzi's injured left shoulder stopped at the elbow, or that the rash that had plagued Kenzi for weeks was gone, without a trace to mar the smooth, unscarred skin above her right wrist. But she pressed a kiss into Kenzi's hair and closed her eyes._

* * *

Her father had told her not to over satisfy herself, but Bo was hungry, and like her mother had said, had an insatiable appetite. She still had time to dress and prepare herself for that evening's revels and celebrations, and besides, a little appetizer now would only whet her appetite for later.

So, dressed finally in a thin black top, black leather pants and her favorite black leather boots, Bo went out on the town. There was still plenty of light out, it would be hours before the sun set, and it was too warm for a jacket. It was probably still too early to drink, but Bo knew the best bars, where happy hour started early and ended late, and where many of the Dark Fae that were more susceptible to her sultry seductions wiled away the hours before that night's final celebrations would begin.

There was one bar in particular, a dear favorite of Bo's, where her mother and father had first found her a little over a year ago. This was a fancy, swaggering hotel bar, above the hotel's penthouse floor, where they served microbrews from their taps and only the best vintage wines and whiskies in fine crystal glasses and tumblers, and the music was smooth, fine, live jazz that curled and wafted like smoke around the patrons.

It was a little busier today than most days. Here, Fae mingled with humans subtly, discreetly. It was a favorite hunting ground among many of the Dark, including Bo, who, like her mother, had refused without announcement to choose a side. It always gave Bo a vague, confused feeling of wonderment to see how easily the Fae hid themselves among their lesser brethren, how well they could disguise themselves amongst the ordinary and mundane. But her father had taught her the nuances of the Fae well, and she detected them with little effort as they moved and mingled with each other and their prey.

There were two today that caught her eye. Bo leaned against the bar, sipping delicately at her drink, and watched them both with her eyes and ears and that subtle, quiet ability that told her exactly how ready they were for her advances. One was a tiny thing, a bottle blonde, with a ragamuffin cap and gloves. But she moved deftly amongst the other humans, picking pockets and sipping at glasses left ignored on the tables scattered around her. She had sharp, fast, pale gray eyes that glittered periwinkle in the bright lights of the bar, and her fingers fluttered dexterously from pockets and purses to the steadily growing bulge around her hips.

The other was also small, nimble and lithe, but with a vibrant, pulsing energy that immediately attracted Bo's attention. Her hair was cropped short, and was a smoky silver color that gleamed liquid around her face and along her long, slender neck. Her eyes were darker, richer, but held so much more laughter and grace and life, and her mouth was stretched wide in a constant, infectious smile. She was dressed more elegantly, in a fitted brown pantsuit and a lavender silk shirt with a collar that licked at her neck and glittered at the corners where tiny emeralds caught the light. She was Fae, and had lived a life with more luxury and refinement than the first would ever experience in her short life.

Because it was La Shoshain, Bo's father had let her go with one more precaution for Bo to observe: that no Fae notice the use of her power. This was, perhaps, the one holy day that was observed by every Fae, both Light and Dark, and the truce that existed between them on La Shoshain was powerful enough that even the Light and Dark Fae Elders, the Ash, and the Morrigan enforced this rule religiously. It was already risky for Bo to use her Succubus abilities outside of the little manor she lived in with her parents, it was much riskier for Bo to hunt other Fae at a Fae-populated bar. Bo knew she had to be careful about choosing her target – it would have to be someone no one would be surprised to see leaving with a stranger. The silver-haired woman that toyed with her drink and flirted with every passerby with ease and grace fit the bill nicely.

It was to her that Bo moved. She abandoned her glass on the smooth, polished bar top and slid gracefully to her side. Her fingers brushed against the older woman's back, pulsing tendrils of shivering, glowing seduction that arced through thin cloth into soft skin beneath, and with her attention caught, Bo leaned in close to touch her lips to her new friend's ear and whispered sweet, dirty nothings into it affectionately, almost carelessly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blonde human bump into a round older man and apologize, even as she slipped her hand into his pocket and came away with his wallet, fat and round, held lightly between her slender fingers.

"My name's Seth," the Fae woman murmured softly back. Dark brown eyes danced merrily at Bo, teasing and light, and Seth turned to face her and slipped her arms around Bo's waist. Bo smiled down into her new lover's mouth as she bent to touch a kiss to her lips.

"Care to find somewhere more private, Seth?" Bo hummed quietly into their kiss. Seth's laugh was light and fluttering, like the sound of high, soft bells jingling in a gentle breeze. "Straight to the point, I see," Seth murmured against Bo's mouth, then she pulled back a little, her smile teasing and coy and her dark eyes sparkling with mirth, "At least buy a girl a drink, first," her breath smelled of sweet coffee and almonds, just slightly bitter around the edges with the alcohol she'd just been drinking. In the corner of her eye, Bo could see the portly gentleman offer the quick-handed human a spiked, fizzing drink.

Bo shivered into the fluttering kisses Seth trailed along her neck and hummed her appreciation. Seth's tongue licked once, teasingly, into the hollow of Bo's throat. The gray-eyed girl downed the offered gin and tonic in a single, smooth swallow, and even from across the bar, Bo could hear the crystal clink clearly as its edges met the table. A waitress slid past her and Seth, and with the flutter of her fingers over the barmaid's elbow, Bo stopped her to order two more of whatever drink Seth was having. Seth didn't see the subtle, glowing pulse of energy that left the human girl flushing with shy excitement, she only watched Bo with fascination and admiration. Her fingers trailed along Bo's shoulders, slid down her arms and came back up again to lace together behind Bo's neck. Bo smiled back down at her conquest, her newest lover, and a deep, penetrating blue raced along the edges of the irises of Bo's eyes.

For a few, brief moments, Bo lost sight and interest in her silver-eyed human. She played with her conquest, toyed with her, slipped her fingers under her pale silk shirt and caressed smooth, supple skin until it shivered with arousal from Bo's careful ministrations. When she saw the human again, they were in the elevator, taking it down one more floor to Seth's penthouse room, and the portly gentleman that had offered her a drink had followed them in. Half-distracted by lazy kisses and Seth's intimate touch, Bo still noticed the watchful, over-interested stare the ruddy, red-haired man paid the human girl, and the rebellious, disdainful refusals she gave in return. The silver-eyed girl looked dazed and unbalanced, and had to lean on her hands against the elevator's side to keep upright. Her words slurred.

Bo could have interrupted to help her. But why should she? She was just a human. And Seth was purring in her arms, ready and willing to be thoroughly victimized by Bo's power and seduction, and the elevator sang when it reached Seth's floor and the doors sighed open. With coffee and almonds an intoxicating, thrilling flavor on her tongue and wafting in her nostrils, Bo edged out of the elevator in Seth's arms, with not a thought left for the miniscule, bottle-blonde ballerina that stared almost accusingly at her through unfocused quicksilver eyes, or the portly, lecherous, leering man that held her back with a strong, hard hand clenched around her wrist.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **

Leader: Haha, how much do you remember from Book 1? Something very weird IS happening. Things are gonna get weirder and weirder as we delve deeper and deeper into this story, but it will slowly start to make more and more sense. We're putting the pieces of a big puzzle together. And I can't wait to show it all to you. =) Are you in Canada? Will you have seen the season premiere by the time this chapter is posted? Here's to hoping SyFy decides to put its LG fans out of our misery soon. 2014 can't come fast enough! Happy Fae Day!

* * *

_Bo didn't sleep a wink. She couldn't. Exhaustion pulled at her eyelids, her breathing grew heavy and deep with the slumber that teased and taunted at the edges of her frayed consciousness. The smell of Kenzi's hair and the sweet spiced vanilla scent her skin emanated while she slept invaded her senses._

_But Bo didn't care. She smiled tiredly into Kenzi's thick, soft ebony locks, her vision blurry with sleep and her eyelashes fluttering against the darkness that refused to overtake her. She was happy just holding Kenzi, knowing she was safe, at least for tonight. She stroked her fingers through Kenzi's hair, pressed the occasional kiss to the crown of Kenzi's head, and thanked whatever God there was that they had come back to each other again. She watched the slow rise and fall of Kenzi's chest while she breathed, pulled the covers closer around her thin shoulders when she looked cold, whispered soothing reassurances into her ear if Kenzi shivered or gasped in her sleep, and squeezed her eyes shut in gratitude that despite who she was, and everything she'd allowed herself to become, that Kenzi still stuck by her side._

_Through all her anguish at the pain she'd allowed her best friend to endure, all the pain she'd caused, there was hope, and Bo felt blessed._

_Morning crept far too quickly through the grimy, boarded window into Kenzi's bedroom. It inched along the floor, climbed up the bed and tickled Bo's skin. She shifted slightly to shield the blinding ray of light from Kenzi's eyes, fighting to give her best friend just a few more minutes of sleep._

_Bo listened closely to Kenzi's breathing. It quickened slightly only minutes before she woke, and Kenzi moved, squirming under the bedcovers to tunnel into the weak shadows under Bo's shoulder. A tiny, tender smile softened the lines on Bo's face, she recognized the quiet, breathless hiccup Kenzi always gave right before she woke, and looked down to see Kenzi's pale, periwinkle eyes flutter open a crack. Sleep crusted the corners of her eyes, it was a struggle for the petite, ballerina Goth to tear her sticky eyelids apart, and she rubbed a hand over them. Her soft, pink lips opened in a long, loud yawn._

"_Good morning, sleepyhead," Bo murmured and grinned down at her best friend. She tucked a rogue strand of hair behind Kenzi's ear and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the side of Kenzi's face. Kenzi only groaned in acknowledgement. "Are you hungry?" Bo mumbled into Kenzi's hair. She watched in rapt fascination as Kenzi's arm flopped back onto the bed, bare to the shoulder. Her eyes narrowed at the smooth, clean skin above her wrist._

_Kenzi's stomach gave a loud, opinionated grumble, tearing Bo's attention from Kenzi's forearms back to the petite woman curled into her embrace. A smile curled the corners of her mouth again, and her forehead smoothed. Kenzi chuckled quietly and turned her face into the nape of Bo's neck. When was the last time she'd woken up to find Bo beside her? When was the last time they'd spent so much time together, in the same room? Even if they'd been only sleeping?_

"_I'll take that as a 'yes'," Bo gave a soft, breathy laugh, but didn't move to disentangle herself from her best friend's bed. "Pancakes at the Dal?" she asked instead, "my treat."_

_Kenzi's stomach growled again in reply, bringing another light, quiet laugh to Kenzi's lips that shuddered warm and caressing against Bo's chest. Bo's heart swelled at the quiet laughter. Maybe Kenzi wasn't okay today. But she could be okay tomorrow. Especially if Bo had anything to say about it._

* * *

Bo's skin hummed with excitement. It wasn't only Inari's hovering presence in her bedroom while she changed, the hungry, smoldering looks the redhead gave her while she helped her Mistress prepare, or the affectionate, feather-light kisses she brushed against her skin whenever the opportunity arose. It wasn't even the afternoon snack she'd enjoyed; Seth, the Seer she'd met at the bar in which she'd found her parents shortly after arriving in the city, had tasted like coffee, warm and robust and earthy.

Walter stood just inside the door to her bedroom, looking on apathetically while Inari dressed Bo in her evening wear. Bo loved this black leather dress, with the V-neck that accentuated the soft curves of her ample breasts and the way it clung to her hourglass figure. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, admiring the contrast against the creamy paleness of her shoulders and arms, and the long, supple line of her legs as she slipped into a pair of lacey black ankle boots with stiletto heels almost four inches long.

"Are you almost ready, Darling?" Bo's father leaned his head in through the door, his lilting, melodic words accentuated by the lazy smile that curled across his lips. He looked sharp, dressed in black slacks, a crisp white shirt and a deep purple vest filigreed and edged in gold. A gold watch sparkled on his wrist, the plain gold wedding band on his finger glittered in the leaping candle light of Bo's spacious bedroom. Jack stepped through the door, Walter tutted around him immediately, straightening the red bowtie around his neck and brushing imaginary lint from his spotless, stylish outfit.

"You look beautiful, my dear," his deep, powerful voice purred with pleasure as he stared at his daughter, evaluating every inch of her serpentine form appraisingly. Bo only held still long enough to finish adding the final touches to her make-up and smile at her father through the mirror before turning in her heels and stepping close to the man that had brought her into this world and had taught her all the intricacies of the Fae with a patient, affectionate hand. She brushed her fingers over the lapels of his vest, appreciating the whisper of silk under her fingertips and smiling up into brown eyes that were so like her own, that stared down at her with so much love.

"You look quite dapper yourself, Daddy," she murmured quietly. Electricity surged across her skin, her excitement bubbled to the surface. She was anxious to start their evening of revels, this was going to be the best La Shoshain she'd ever celebrated, even if it was only the second she'd ever experienced. "You wouldn't happen to know what 'surprise' Mom's got in store for me tonight, would you?" Bo knew she had her father wound around her little finger, she grinned coquettishly up at him, her bottom lip held between her teeth.

Jack only smiled down at his daughter, enjoying her excitement, and the way her eyes lit when she was happy. He had missed out on all of her earlier years, had missed watching her grow up, grow into her abilities, into the woman she had become. But he was so proud of her, and loved her fiercely. He raised a finger to his lips, his own smile radiant. He wouldn't spoil the surprise his wife had prepared for their daughter.

Bo puckered her lips in a mock pout, Inari fussed around her, and Walter fussed around them both, making sure that every hair on their heads was absolutely perfect.

"Darlings, are you ready? The Dal is waiting for its stars to arrive!" Aife's voice wandered through the crack of the door, merely seconds ahead of the beautiful Succubus that stepped inside, beaming at her husband and daughter and visibly at least as excited as Bo felt. "Bo, baby, you look ravishing," Aife's words lowered to a pleased, proud murmur. Her fingers curled around Jack's elbow, her other hand reached out to grasp Bo's affectionately.

Aife was stunning, dressed in a backless deep purple dress filigreed with fine lines of gold that fell to her feet. Her shoulders were bare, she'd let her dark, coppery hair down, and it fell in slender curls around her face, neck and shoulders. The front of her gown dipped low, flaunting her soft curves. Diamonds glittered in her ears, peeking shyly past the luscious locks that fell around them, and on the tennis bracelet on her left wrist and the engagement ring Aife still wore along with her wedding ring to special occasions.

Bo smiled through her anticipation, she could feel how her skin glowed with her happiness, with her excitement, and leaned forward to press a kiss to her mother's cheek.

"Thanks, Momma," she murmured quietly into Aife's ear, "you look beautiful, too."

* * *

_Bo waited until their plates were clean, even of residue syrup which Kenzi quickly mopped up with a last extra flap of pancake, before she said anything to Kenzi. All morning, Bo had been watching her best friend, trying not to stare too openly at the smooth, unmarred skin above her right wrist, trying to decide if this was an older development, or if the last time she'd seen Kenzi before Inari had kidnapped her, she'd still been wearing a bandage there._

_Kenzi had devoured her stack of pancakes and half of Bo's voraciously. It always amazed Bo how much the tiny woman could eat, and if anyone had asked her: along with her wit and resourcefulness, Kenzi's appetite was definitely one of the little Russian woman's superpowers._

_When Kenzi finally licked her lips clean and pushed her plate away, Bo reached across the table to grasp her best friend's hand. There were only a few windows in the Dal, but the lighting was bright for the morning crowd, and the air was thick with the warm, earthy smells of coffee, of toast and eggs, pancakes and syrup and bacon. Kenzi looked down at the hand that held hers, her fingers shifted under Bo's slightly, and she turned her hand over palm-up to return the gentle, affectionate grip with a squeeze of her own._

"_Everything okay, Bo-Bo?" Kenzi asked, her piercing blue-gray gaze rising to meet Bo's eyes. Concern twisted her mouth into a tight smile, anxious for the questions she could feel coming next, for the answers she knew she would have to give, for the uncertain reactions they would invoke, and for the relief that honesty could finally give her. She couldn't keep any more secrets from Bo. The one she'd kept had slowly been suffocating her over the past few weeks, it weighed on her, as much as the distance she'd been feeling from her best friend had been weighing on her. It had been part of what had caused it._

_Bo returned Kenzi's worried stare with a half-smile that didn't reach her eyes. She stroked her thumb over the palm of Kenzi's hand distractedly, considering how best to approach the subject, and feeling a wave of self-reproach for not addressing the issue sooner._

"_Your arm's all healed up," Bo remarked quietly, turning their hands over to nod at Kenzi's forearm. Kenzi looked down at her pale, flawless skin, as much to see how well the rash had cleared up as to break eye contact. Bo reached her other hand out to brush her fingers across Kenzi's arm delicately._

"_Told you, Bo-balicious. Nothing a spray of Neosporin wouldn't fix," Kenzi muttered, barely able to utter the lie. Bo narrowed her gaze at her best friend and squeezed the hand she held gently, encouragingly. Sometimes, old habits died hard._

"_Kenzi," Bo's voice was soft but serious with gentle reproach. Kenzi forced herself to look back up to meet brown eyes etched with worry. She sighed, weary to the bone, and gave a slight nod to indicate that she would do her best to tell Bo everything. Even if it meant breaking Dyson's confidence. Bo had a right to know. And this secret had torn their friendship apart, quietly, stealthily so. Kenzi's gaze flicked down to her hand ensconced so safely in Bo's. It had been so good to feel wanted, to feel needed, the night before. Where had Bo been, when Kenzi had been trying so desperately to talk to her about the rash that had developed on her arm, that had grown steadily worse over the weeks since she'd visited the Norn on Dyson's behalf?_

_Kenzi pushed her feelings of hurt and doubt away and settled her other hand over Bo's, so that all their hands rested in a jumble together. Wherever Bo had been before, she was here now. The concern in her dark eyes was sincere, the apology she'd given the night before was true, and Kenzi knew, deep down in her soul, that Bo loved her. That she'd simply gotten a little lost. That they'd both been lost for some time. They needed to find each other again, and that could only happen when all truths were told, when the secrets kept between them were torn away._

"_Do you remember the night before we killed the Garuda?" Kenzi's voice was soft, but steady. She drew in a deep breath, her worried gaze rose to meet Bo's. That night felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. Bo's chin dipped slightly in agreement. "I sorta paid a visit to the Norn," Kenzi's voice hushed with her confession. _

_Bo's nostrils flared, her fingers tightened around Kenzi's hand and the lines across her face stretched and stiffened. "Kenzi, no!" Bo's appalled whisper was sharp and soft, "are you crazy?! Why would you do that?!" Panic put a tremor in Bo's words, Kenzi flinched against the harshness of Bo's voice._

"_Look, just listen, okay?" Kenzi sighed. She struggled to meet Bo's anxious gaze, afraid of the disappointment, worry and reproach she believed she would find there. All her life, Kenzi had been able to take care of herself, to watch her own back and pull herself out of her own scrapes. To have needed to be rescued had been a little humiliating. To have been rescued by Vex and the girl they were supposed to be helping had felt even worse. To know that the reason she'd needed rescuing was as much her own hubris as her inadequacies as a human in the Fae world had reduced her to nothing._

_Kenzi had always believed she brought something to the table, even as a human immersed in the world of the Fae, fighting Fae baddies, solving cases and watching Bo's back. She was the one that had singlehandedly managed to save Dyson from the Berserkers he'd faced alone at the Garuda's lair, the one that had stayed behind and hidden in order to bring him back from the brink of death. Even if what she offered wasn't physical prowess, once upon a time, her friends had needed her. But for some time now, Kenzi had been feeling more and more like a liability to Bo and the rest of their gang._

"_Kenzi," Bo's worried voice yanked Kenzi out of her tumultuous thoughts. When she finally looked up to meet Bo's eyes, there was worry and there was reproach there. But the disappointment she'd expected to see was missing. There was something else, a glimmer there that Kenzi wasn't entirely sure how to interpret. "What happened at the Norn's?" Bo prodded gently, bringing Kenzi's train of thought back to the conversation at hand._

_Kenzi gave her head a slight shake and looked back down at her hands entangled in Bo's. It had always been them, together. The dynamic duo. Kenzi and Bo vs. the world._

"_I went to get Dyson's love back," Kenzi's voice was tremulous, her pale eyes rose to meet Bo's stare again. "I turned sexy lumberjack on that bitch's tree-hugging ass," strength returned to Kenzi's voice with her conviction. She would do it again, and again, and again to get Dyson his love back, because that was what he had needed to be the best he could be, to help Bo fight the Garuda. Besides, the Norn had been a self-righteous, self-important bitch. "It worked too. I got Dyson his love back. I just happened to also accidentally knock over a bottle of nasty, sludgy, black Fae mojo on my arm. Burned like acid, too," Kenzi scraped her nails along her arm, where the rash had surfaced, as though she still felt the ghost of that burn scald her skin, and shrugged at the sympathetic grimace on Bo's face, "I didn't think it was that big a deal."_

"_Kenzi…" Bo sighed, her eyes fell closed with the exasperation she felt at Kenzi's reckless behavior. Self-reproach at not having been there for her best friend when she'd needed her rose through her again. "How could you think it wasn't a big deal? The Norn is one dangerous, crazy bitch," Bo's eyes flew open again, she squeezed the hand that remained folded in between hers. It just showed how strong and resilient Kenzi was, how tough and selfless, to risk angering a Norn to fight for a love that wasn't even hers. _

_But this raised a whole other question. If Kenzi succeeded, did that mean that Dyson had his love back? Did he still love Bo? And why hadn't he told her? Anger rose steadily to the surface, it brought Bo's eyebrows into a tight line across her forehead, and her lips pursed with the knowledge that Dyson had kept yet another big, important secret from her, again._

"_So did Dyson get his love back, then?" Bo asked. It was leaving the topic just a little, but Bo needed to know. She didn't meet Kenzi's worried gaze, only stared fixedly at the rough grain that curled and swooped across the table's boards in front of her._

"_Yes," Kenzi replied cautiously, "I don't think he knows what to do with it, Bo. He wanted to tell you, but I guess by the time he got the cojones to do it…" Kenzi flinched at the glare Bo sent her, "you were in Hecuba prison, getting into Dr. Hotpants' hot pants."_

_This was an anger best directed at Dyson, Bo decided. She stared into anxious gray eyes, rubbed the palm held stiffly between her hands until it relaxed a little, and forced herself to breathe slowly, until her anger subsided and she was able to focus on the best friend she'd left hanging for so long._

_Kenzi was relieved to see the scowl across Bo's face slacken, to feel the hands that held hers loosen from the death grip Kenzi suspected Bo didn't even know she'd held. Bo could put the rest of the pieces of the story together by herself, and judging by the expression that turned from angry to guilty, already had._

"_Inari kidnapped you because of me," Bo whispered. Her voice felt like it was catching in her throat. Kenzi could have died because of the things she'd done for Bo, because Bo had been too wrapped up in her own problems to notice that something was wrong with Kenzi, because by the time Bo had found out that Kenzi was gone, she'd already begun to turn into the monster she'd been struggling to keep locked away, deep inside herself. Except, to have been so selfish to begin with meant that she hadn't kept the monster hidden away as well as she'd hoped._

_Gentle fingers brushed at her cheek, they pushed the errant strand of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear. Kenzi should be angry, should hate her, but she wasn't, and she didn't._

"_Bo, Inari kidnapped me because she was helping O'Meara. He was just trying to get to you, babe. Don't let him."_

_But Kenzi knew that he already had._


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Surprise! Chapters have been a little short as of late, and since this one is short too, I've decided to post it up a little early. Chapter 5 will be posted as per usual on Tuesday. Enjoy!

Leader: I know it seemed short, but Chapter 3 was actually the longest chapter in this story to date. =) Still, my chapters have been a little shorter than usual in comparison to Book 1, and in light of that (and in light of how short this chapter is), I have decided to go ahead and post this chapter a little early. Not because I'm impatient to get it out to you at all! ;)  
It's a pretty safe bet that this Bo hasn't met Lauren yet, but I think you'll be a little surprised by what Bo & Co. have in store for the Dal. Maybe a little angry too, but keep an open mind, and know that I am a total sucker for happy endings. And, of course, 'where there's a will, there's a Fae', and I found a way to see the season premiere. I was impressed, and giddy. But seriously, the hair! ;) Thank you so much for reading, and for continuing to review, it means so much to me and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on my writing every week! =D

Gogobolo: You're so sweet, your review really put a smile on my face! I'm ecstatic to have you back for this story, and I really hope you'll enjoy this crazy roller coaster ride I've got in store for you! It's actually taking me forever to write this response to your review, because I'm so excited to share my thoughts with you, but I also really don't want to spoil any part of the story! I will say that for Book 2, I really pick Bo apart and put her back together again. I can't wait to hear what you think of chapter 4, and really hope you get a kick out of chapter 5, writing it really got me laughing, and I had to read through over and over to make sure I got everything right. ;) Seth is a very dear character to me, not least because she's something that I dreamt up in a nightmare years ago and have obsessed over ever since. I won't say what part she has in the over-arching story line, because since I haven't quite finished writing it, I can't speak to that yet. But like so many important people in our lives, she is a huge part of Maia, and Maia has some really huge parts to play yet as far as my planning into Book 3 has gone.

* * *

Bo had never been to the Dal Riata before. She had stood outside its door on the rare occasion, picking up random Fae from the streets to feed from, but had never gone through the door itself. She'd heard the music inside – sometimes a popular rock band, sometimes catchy, upbeat Irish folk music – stir and beat and throb when the door opened to allow patrons to pass in and out. She'd seen the dim lights inside, the smiles and laughter flashing across faces that blurred across her vision, but had never ventured through its threshold.

She'd taken anyone she wanted from the alleyway that it opened to, or else had gone hunting in various parts of the city with her mother whenever they both wanted a snack or to find new Thralls to bring into their folds.

This would be the first time she stepped across the threshold. She lingered at the door, arm in arm with both her parents. They stood with her, buzzing with anticipation, but patient enough to allow their daughter a moment before the chaos they'd already set in motion really began.

"Bo, darling, it's time," Aife's voice whispered past Bo's hair, tickling the shell of her ear. Bo turned to face her mother, noting the gentle, loving smile on Aife's lips, and returned it with a bright grin of her own.

A heartbeat later, the very first notes of their own, personal orchestra exploded. Crimson and orange and a beautiful, gleaming gold that matched the light, glittering detail on Aife's dress and Jack's vest bloomed through the door that flew open with the blast, and it shook the cozy little way station down to its very foundations. Screaming and crying followed almost instantly.

It was a small explosion. Not intended to kill as many as to maim, and instill fear and chaos. It was La Shoshain, violence on this holy day was forbidden to all the Fae clans. It sent a thrill through Bo to break the rules once again. Oh, how she loved the freedom that came with disobedience, the feeling of dissolved responsibility, the carelessness of laws unheeded and broken. Bo's face lit with the flames that shattered the windows and licked along the walls, flickering burning gold across her features and setting a glint in her dark eyes that seemed almost manic with excitement.

The flames died almost as quickly as they'd surged. And the little family of three stepped through the scorched door into the most respected and loved way station in the county to find it a mess of broken bodies, of scattered fire, of thoughtless destruction. The screaming had died down, but the sound of broken crying and the silence of shock electrified the burned atmosphere of the Dal Riata. Faces were frozen in masks of pain, fear, and comic tragedy.

Her mother and father had also taught her that on La Shoshain, the intentional use of one's Fae abilities was forbidden as well. Bo reveled in the freedom she'd taken for herself as she picked her way through the ruins of the Dal Riata to feed on various Fae. Her father stood and basked in the terror that flooded the sturdy building. Her mother wound her way through the debris as well, making a beeline for the bar that still stood, resiliently, at its deep end. Bo occupied herself by searching through the wreckage, hunting for any Fae that wasn't too injured, and still handsome enough, to deserve her glorious attention. Perhaps, as a gift to herself, she might bring home a new Thrall. She stepped along gingerly, careful not to dirty her pretty stiletto pumps more than she had to.

"Bo," Aife's call tore Bo's attention away from a handsome Wolf that struggled against her, his skin scorched by fire and his rugged face twisted into a scowl of pain and bewilderment. He was trapped beneath a heavy, burning beam from the waist down, and he scraped and scrabbled at the floorboards in his attempt to escape. His floundering movements had caught her eye, and his faded blue eyes were still sharp in his lightly tanned face. She had knelt beside him, pulled his arms around her and pulsed soothing seduction from her skin into his, and held his rough, bearded face between her hands. Bo lifted her head and tilted it to look in mixed curiosity and a little agitation at the woman that had prepared this beautiful feast of carnage and chaos for her and distracted her now from it. "I have a surprise for you," Aife's sing-song voice was slightly muffled, but Bo could still hear the smile that stretched across her face. She was bent behind the bar's counter, and rose clutching a struggling form within her grasp.

Excitement flooded Bo's chest. She dropped the grunting Wolf and pushed his arms away from her to stand, and the moment her skin left his, he cried out in pain and panic, and it was tainted with the loss of Bo's soothing touch. But his cry went ignored. Bo stared at the short, stocky man Aife dragged over the debris that had fallen from the broken, collapsing roof, her attention wholly focused on the agony and anger that twisted his face.

He was balding. Blood glittered across his brow and scalp, bright against the black ashes that smeared his bearded face. His skin was flushed and angry and irritated from the burns that spread across it, and his sharp vest and shirt, his leather pants, were torn and filthy with more blood, and more soot, and more dirt from the collapsed roof. His dark eyes glittered belligerently at her, and Bo noticed with a small amount of disappointment that they would not focus; he was badly concussed. It was always more fun when they were wholly aware of the events that transpired around them. He struggled wildly in Aife's vise-like grip, but his thrashing movements were uncoordinated, and a gaping wound opened the side of his face and left one ear hanging stiffly, miserably, from it.

He slid and skidded and kicked over the beams that sprawled across the broken hardwood floors, over bodies and the skeletons of chairs and tables, until Aife had dragged him to Bo's feet. She threw him roughly down, and he fell with a grunt across Bo's shoes, and struggled to stand upright, but his legs would not hold, and all he managed was a crooked kneel.

"Bo," Aife's voice trilled through the electric air, shrill and high with giddy excitement and dark, brittle hatred, "I want you to meet someone."

Bo looked up from the pathetic creature at her feet to meet her mother's gaze. Ash floated in the air like black, twisted snowflakes and had settled over Aife's glowing, coppery hair and across her shoulders. And Aife's eyes glittered in the unsteady, scorching light of the burning bar. Her lips were curled in a cruel smile, her teeth flashed white behind them, and Bo's face stretched into a grin almost identical to it. "This is Fitzpatrick McCorrigan," Aife's voice rang in Bo's ears, triumphant, bold, and proud, "my father," Aife was beaming now, and Bo's heart thudded in her chest, blood rushed in her ears, and her skin hummed with pleasure, with anticipation, with a shared triumph that came with the sense of belonging Aife and Jack had given her, "your grandfather," Aife was laughing now, a cruel, thin cackle that curled and crackled with the flames that still licked and ate at the walls and floor around them, Bo felt herself grow dizzy, light-headed, drunk off the buzzing, electric tension that tightened the air around them and made it unbreathable, "The Blood King!"

Bo felt her father's presence close by her side. Hands, clawed and hot and desperate, scrabbled for purchase around her ankles. Teeth bit into the flesh just below her calf, but Bo didn't notice. The blood that trickled down from the skin broken by the Wolf's teeth didn't so much as tickle her. She kicked him off delicately, the sharp point of her heel met the solidity of a cheekbone, and the Wolf twisted and jolted backward with a yelp that Bo paid no mind to. A sword passed from father to daughter, glittering and cold in the leaping, greedy flames that continued to spread and cast eerie, monstrous shadows across every surface. The Blood King shook his head, and ashes and soot formed a smoky, regal halo around him. Blood spattered across the floor, stained Aife's and Bo's legs in graceful crimson splatters. The hilt of her father's sword was cool in her palms, and it was heavy in her hands. But Bo lifted it, carefully, above her head.

And then the little, powerfully built, stocky man raised his head and looked at Bo. His gaze bored into hers, angry, frightened, desperate, and rebellious, all at once. She could have loved him. He was made of such stern stuff, of this Bo was certain. She could see the steel in his stare, the determination in the lines of his mouth, the wisdom that wrinkled the corners of his eyes, the concerns of a thousand years etched across the expanse of his high, kingly brow. She could have loved him. But he had abandoned her. He had betrayed her. Just like he had abandoned and betrayed her mother. He had not been there when she hit puberty, had not been there when she'd killed her first lover. He had not searched for her, relentlessly, until he found her, nor explained to her the intricacies of Fae culture, like her mother and father had done. And it was to them that Bo owed all her fealty, all her love and devotion. So though Bo might have loved this long-lost and forgotten king, Bo already did love her mother and father, who both watched her eagerly with hungry eyes.

He didn't beg for his life. He didn't cower in fear of her. He knew his end was coming, and like a king should, he shouldered his death, met it with grace, and bravery, like an old friend he finally meant to call on. An old friend he would have words with. His nostrils flared once, his fingers gripped his thighs in his attempt to remain upright, and he stared at her with such conviction, such power, it sent a rush of delight crashing throughout Bo's trembling, quivering frame.

And then the sword flashed down in an arc, a rainbow of dancing white light through the red and black hellscape of the Dal Riata, and his strong, steady, kingly eyes stared at her no longer.

* * *

**And even as those eyes dulled and faded and glazed over in death, the afterimage of his stare burned and throbbed through the cold, empty air.**

**The cold here seeped through her skin. It froze her down to her core. She reached for those burning eyes, desperate to feel even a scrap of the heat that scorching glare emitted into the darkness. But the heat she'd expected to feel from them, even as they faded in a dancing mirage before her very eyes, was not there. She was drowning in black, empty, passionless space. And all Bo could do was sob, and shake, and hate herself for what she was. Images flashed across her eyes, blindingly saturated with color, taut and brittle with intensity. She could feel nothing around her. She was surrounded by nothing. All that remained here was the monster she struggled so hard not to be. The monster she was, no matter how hard she tried.**

**The cold bit mercilessly into her skin. It clawed at her lungs as she fought to breathe. Its frozen fingers wound around her frantically beating heart and squeezed, it slid through her veins like liquid nitrogen. She was not in the Dal Riata, slicing through beloved skin and muscle and bone with her father's sword, surrounded by a beautiful, burning cage of fire and crumbling wood and brick and twisting, warping steel. Here, it was cold. Lifelessly, dispassionately cold.**

**Bo tried to whisper Trick's name. But she had no voice. And he slid through her fingers, there and gone. He stared at her rebelliously in the darkness, his face alight with leaping flames from another world, another time, and his eyes were bright with defiance, glittering and strong and warm. She tried to reach for Kenzi, whom she'd abandoned, time and again, but she could not catch her. And she faded from her sight, bleary eyed and drugged and condemnatory as she stared at Bo's retreating backside while her rapist held her back in the elevator. **

**They were lost to her. Gone. The grandfather she had loved. Had killed. For the sake of her own craving for power, for any family, good or bad, for her absolute disregard for rules and laws, her insatiable lust, her greed, her selfish whims.**

**This was where it had all begun. With Kenzi. The small, spritely human girl who had changed Bo's life forever by simply being there. If Kenzi hadn't been roofied by the man at the bar, and Bo hadn't felt the compassionate urge to help her, what would have become of Bo? Would she have been found first by her mother, been seduced so thoroughly by the promise of power and family that she would have forsaken everything else?**

**But hadn't Bo left Kenzi in the elevator to be raped and killed, so that she could enjoy a feed? Hadn't that been Kenzi, teetering on the edge of consciousness, staring accusingly at Bo's backside while she abandoned her to a horrible fate?**

**Bo wished she could feel the sound of Kenzi's name on her lips, but she had never even learned Kenzi's name. And as easily as she'd slipped into a fractious, easily forgotten moment of her life, she was gone. The best friend she'd promised to protect, to love, to trust. Whom she'd relied on, who'd given her everything, even the love of a childhood crush that had flowered into the love of a woman who'd deserved far more than what she'd been given.**

**Bo struggled desperately in the numbing cold that gripped her. She'd never learned Kenzi's name, but she knew it now. She could have loved Trick, but she already did, and she could have saved him, but she'd already sacrificed him, for the love of a mother that she'd already allowed to disappear and die. Conflicting memories and emotions and events tore at Bo's conscious mind. Which reality was real? Which Bo was hers? Had they both existed, or had neither of them ever been real?**

**But Bo was real. This nothingness was real, the pain that wracked her body and broke her heart was real, and if all that was true, then something in those twisted, clashing memories must be true too. Right?**

**Uncertainty gripped Bo, and she was lost again in a haze of frigid confusion. The nothingness that surrounded her ate at her fraying consciousness. Bo couldn't guess what was real anymore, all the images that flashed through her groggy mind seemed real, and some of them might be memories, and others yet the imaginings of a sinful, lost, soiled soul, yearning for a place to belong, for a family to belong to. But which family was real?**

**Bo struggled to scream. The cold numbed her throat, the darkness swallowed the shrill cry of fear and anguish and anger she wished desperately she could hear, if only to be sure of what was real and what wasn't. So she focused on the minutest details her damaged mind conjured up in those flashes of warm, living, breathing life. And the memory of those Wolf's eyes burning up at her in the ruins of the Dal came to her. The scorched, pale eyes of a Wolf that seemed so familiar, so real, so important. She'd seen them before, in so many different contexts… they'd been angry, confused, frightened… loving…**

**Dyson loved her. Of that, she was certain. Kenzi had told her once, and he had admitted it to her again, later. She thought she remembered that, if any of her memories could be trusted. She focused herself wholly on that thought, forced herself to ignore the barrage of conflicting memories that told her otherwise. Dyson loved her… Dyson had been her lover… the Wolf with the sad, faded, soulful eyes…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **

Leader: Haha, I was hoping to catch you by surprise, give you big saucer eyes! Honestly, I debated for a long time over whether to include Lauren and Kenzi in the scene with the Dal blowing up. The last chapter where Kenzi is left behind with her rapist in the elevator was written and added only a couple of months ago, when I'd already finished writing most of this book, perhaps a week or so before I started posting. Fortunately, at least in my humble opinion, this Bo does not meet Lauren. At least, not quite this Bo meets Lauren, in both understandings of the phrase. Speaking of which, I think this chapter might also take you a little by surprise. I had a lot of fun writing the next couple of chapters, and they actually came from a spoofy fanfic I'd been considering working on before I started this project. If you enjoy it, and would like more, I've been also considering writing a short spin-off on the next three or four chapters in between writing books, just for laughs. Hope you like the next bit, I can't wait to hear your thoughts on it! =)

Gogobolo: I LOVE how much you're enjoying this! I think you misunderstood me though, I absolutely love happy endings, and while I doubt this entire (so far 3 book) story will end with a completely 'happily ever after' fairy tale ending, I am planning on a good, happy feels conclusion, because we just don't have enough of those in real life. That being said, I have not finished the final book, so who knows just which rabbit hole my madness will take me down. ;) You are definitely on the right track about Bo's Dawning though. I don't think it's too much of a spoiler to tell you that. And it is going to get much, much worse before it gets any better. Fortunately, we get a bit of a reprieve here from the dark and twisted. Keep on guessing, I love hearing your theories!

* * *

Bo loved the ring. She loved the smell of sweat and blood that permeated the air after a good, hard fight. She loved the hot sting of her opponent's gloved fist scraping the side of her face, she loved the satisfying thud, the hard impact of her own fist connecting with a hard jaw or toned stomach. She loved the dance, the focus, the slide of air against damp skin when she dodged an attack, the scrape of feet on the canvas flooring, the rush and activity that surrounded her when the fighting gym was busy.

Best of all, Bo loved the tunnel vision of a good workout, when she didn't have to think about her returned feelings for the intoxicating blonde that had stolen her heart, or the human doctor that had stolen her mate.

Boxing, especially with Tamsin, who was a ferocious opponent, was usually an incredibly satisfying way for Bo to shed the stress of work and the frustrations of trying and failing to tell Lauren how she felt, and of the heart-ache of seeing Lauren with Dyson. But today, Bo simply could not summon the strength of mind to focus on the fight. And with every punch and jab that Tamsin landed, and every aimless hit Bo thrust through empty air, Bo's frustration and anger grew and writhed and coiled in the pit of her stomach. Her attacks grew sloppy, her footwork unbalanced and her defense weak and ineffective, until Tamsin stopped and stood, and stared at Bo with green eyes that glittered with annoyed perplexity.

"Dude, did you shove that pole up your ass too high today? Relax and fight me, or get the hell out of the ring," Tamsin's words were sharp, they bit through the last of Bo's thin patience and earned the Valkyrie a sharp blow to the head. It sent her twisting backward, and when Tamsin straightened again, a thin, crimson line dripped down the side of her mouth to her chin. The glitter in her eyes turned cold.

"Sorry," Bo muttered darkly. She raised her hands to echo her apology before tearing the strap of one glove off with her teeth. "I'm in a shitty mood, that's all. And this case isn't helping."

Tamsin tore her own gloves off, and with her eyes averted to her task, Bo couldn't see if the Valkyrie accepted her terse apology or not. Bo bit back a growl and tore her second glove off and tossed both toward her bag, sitting open just outside the ring. Even if Tamsin didn't agree, the fight was over, and Bo's anxious, irritated mood hadn't improved in the twenty minutes they'd spent sparring distractedly in it.

The fist that connected with the side of Bo's face sent the Wolf careening to the floor. She barked out a sharp whine in surprise at the pain that exploded along her cheek and twisted on the canvas bottom to glare up at her partner, who grinned down at her darkly and offered her a hand to help her up. Tamsin's palm was sweaty with exertion, and smeared red across the back where she'd swiped it against her bloodied lip.

"Never," the warning in Tamsin's voice sent shivers down Bo's back, "ever sucker punch me like that again. You hear me, Wolf?" Though Tamsin's grin was still firmly in place, there was a darkness in her expression and a threat in her tone that instantly made Bo want to hit her again and assert her dominance. But she bit back the growl that rose in her chest and only nodded tensely at the woman squared staunchly in front of her. She smelled like sweat and adrenaline, and a bare trace of the blood that welled again along her bottom lip. She stood only centimeters away, Bo could even catch the thinnest wisp of what Tamsin had eaten for lunch: cold black coffee and stale pepperoni pizza. And if Bo didn't look closely enough, ignored the smell of her that surrounded her in a haze, she could almost imagine it was Lauren standing in front of her, telling her that the Norn hadn't changed how she'd felt, begging her for another chance to make Bo love her.

"Let's hit the showers. I need a drink," Tamsin finally stepped back, the snarky grin disappeared from her face and her own frustrations rolled in like thunderheads across her expression, "you're buying."

Bo barked out a short, tense laugh and stepped out of the ring alongside her new partner.

* * *

_Maia hadn't been invited to the funeral. She wasn't Fae, and though she had been claimed by Seth for half a decade, was not considered by the few friends and family Seth had retained over the centuries as being worthy of an invitation to her burial._

_This wasn't a surprise to the curly-haired human. She had always known that the Fae considered her, as well as the rest of human-kind, as lesser beings. Who, in their right mind, ever invited the deceased's pet bird or goldfish to their memorial? And she was grateful that Ryan had been kind enough to smuggle Seth's favorite brown silk scarf and a few of the books Seth had bought Maia as gifts over the years to her. She hadn't expected it of the Loki, but he and Seth had been good friends, and she supposed he must have grown accustomed to seeing Maia whenever he visited or filled an order for the Seer._

_So though Maia had felt the sting of being overlooked by Seth's inner circle on the day of her funeral, she was grateful to the new friends she'd made for dragging her out to the Dal to celebrate Seth's life and mourn her death with her over shots of Seth's favorite whiskey._

"_Another?"_

_Maia shoved her glass over to the green-eyed Valkyrie that eyed her with ill-concealed concern. Her movements were rough and sloppy, she'd already had six shots, which were three or four too many for her scrawny, skeletal frame. She slurred a response in the affirmative and dropped her head on the counter with a heavy, dull thud._

"_Don't you think she's had enough?" Bo leaned over the same counter, her dark eyes settled on the form slumped on Tamsin's other side and her brow twisted in apprehension. Bo didn't know Seth, hadn't even exchanged words with her, and wasn't even really close to either Maia or Tamsin, but she'd only just finished her training session with Trick, and Lauren hadn't been picking up her phone all afternoon. So when the offer of a few shots with Tamsin and Maia in Seth's honor was given, Bo hesitantly accepted._

"_I donno," Tamsin wrinkled her nose at the human beside her, "maybe. If I'd known she was such a lightweight, I wouldn't have claimed her. She better not puke on me on the way home."_

"_Who isn't a lightweight next to you?" Bo snorted derisively into her glass. Tamsin ignored her muttered words and poured another shot of the amber liquid into Maia's glass._

"_Being a lightweight is not an excuse," Tamsin twisted to pour another finger into Bo's tumbler and another shot into her own. Her glittering eyes rose to meet Bo's, and she picked her glass up and tilted it to her, "to a woman who could hold her liquor, a woman who can't, and a woman whose love-life drama rivals that of a soap-opera." Tamsin's mouth twisted into a wry grin, and she tossed her shot back with the ease and composure that only a centuries-old Valkyrie could manage._

"_Excuse me?" Bo didn't drink to the toast. Her mouth tensed and she glared at the blonde beside her, her temper flared at the ill-conceived joke and she struggled to set down her glass as carefully as possible without cracking it in her tight, white-knuckled grip. _

"_Oh, come on, Succu-drag. You're not sitting here with a pair of drunks mourning the death of a person you barely knew for shits and giggles," Tamsin gave a short, tense laugh that sounded more like a throaty cough and turned on her stool to face Bo squarely. Behind her, Maia groaned and shoved the shot Tamsin had poured her away, her face looked a little green around the edges, and she tore her new glasses off and dropped them onto the counter before burying her head into the crook of her casted arm. "If you could be home right now with your little pet doctor, you would be. Which means The Girl with the Stick up Her Ass gave you the brush-off. Am I right?"_

_The acidity in Tamsin's tone wore at Bo's nerves and set her teeth on edge. Her lips twitched into a frown, but she refused to allow the truth of Tamsin's statement get under her skin. Ever since Bo's descent into madness at her father's mansion and her faithless behavior with her Thralls both before and after Lauren's rescue, things between Bo and Lauren had been strained, to say the least. Bo had been struggling to repair the damage caused, and Lauren had sworn that she understood Bo's behavior and forgave her for it, but the damage had been done, and there was nothing Bo or Lauren could say or do to take it all back. And though Bo was desperate to find a way for them to reconnect, to find their places at each other's side again with the same ease and familiarity and passion that they'd had at the beginning of their short relationship, she was also heavily preoccupied by her Dawning. And things hadn't been going well in either respect._

_Still, it was impossible for Tamsin to be acquainted with the uneasy, uncertain condition of Bo and Dyson's friendship. Bo's lips pressed together and she set her gaze to the dark, glittering liquid between her fingers. She had only discovered through Kenzi a couple of days ago that he'd gotten his love back from the Norn, and the roiling anger and betrayal and bitterness she'd felt towards him for his silence hadn't yet settled. It would have only grated her already worn nerves more to discover that Tamsin had known about it before her too._

"_Between that and the moony dog sniffing at your heels and pining away after you, I bet you could start your own little drama series on Oxygen." Tamsin laughed, it was dark and bitter, and not a little sardonic. "Ryan sends his best, by the way."_

_Bo stiffened in her seat. Her heart froze in her chest for an instant with the resentment that flared hot and angry through her. So Tamsin had known that Dyson had gotten his love back after all? Had everyone known, but Bo? Her teeth clenched, she had to force her jaw open to down the whiskey she clutched tightly between her fingers, and the smooth, searing liquid worked to warm and loosen her taut muscles and stiff shoulders._

"_God, what is his problem, anyway?!" The tumbler clattered to the bar noisily, and Bo turned to stare at the Valkyrie whose expression, lined with worry and ill-humor, twisted into a confused frown. Bo's voice rose with her irritated consternation, and it occurred to her, a little belatedly, that perhaps it wasn't just Maia that had had just a little too much to drink. "You'd think that he would just tell me. I mean, you would think, of all people, he would tell _me_!" _

_Tamsin's nose wrinkled with her confusion, her head cocked back and one eyebrow rose with disdainful perplexity. "Who? Ryan?"_

_Bo rolled her eyes and snatched the bottle of whiskey from Tamsin to pour herself another shot. It dribbled sloppily into her glass and spilled onto the counter, and Tamsin had to snatch it from Bo's grasp to prevent her from wasting any more of the precious, expensive alcohol._

"_Uhm, Dyson!" incredulity rang in Bo's voice, and she tossed back her shot quickly, if only to quench the fire that burned in her gut. It only intensified, her resentment coiled warm and queasy and Bo shoved her glass away from her in much the same careless, clumsy fashion Maia had done only minutes ago. "He got his love back. But does he love me, hmm," Bo's voice fell to a low, disturbed mumble, "that is the question."_

_Tamsin rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. The bottle was down to its last shot, and she poured it for herself, but only nursed it between her hands as if praying it would multiply. _

"_Everyone's got their fucking first world problems," the words came out a dark mutter, unheard and ignored by the brooding women on either side of her, "the guy's crazy moony for you, Bo," Tamsin raised her voice sharply and turned to glare reprovingly at the spoiled, self-important Succubus that moped beside her, "you just suck at reading people."_

"_I mean, you would think he could just man-up and tell me, right?" Bo ignored her, lost in her half-drunken rant and to the aggravation that rolled and thundered like a storm inside her. "Guys are jerks," she grumbled darkly. Her hands splayed over the sticky countertop and she glared at the contrast of her pale, porcelain skin against the dark wood. "Hell, even Trick knew before I did!"_

"_What did I know before you did?" Trick's gentle, gravelly voice tore Bo's attention away from her fingers to the man that strolled towards them on the other side of the bar. His brow was set in a worried line and his mouth tight with disapproval at the morose, sorry sight of his drunk granddaughter shouting over the loud buzz of conversation, and a human draped half-asleep across the bartop._

"_Oh, thank Odin, Trick. Another bottle, please!" Tamsin thrust the empty bottle of whiskey she'd clutched tightly between her fingers at him, her voice desperate with the knowledge that she wouldn't get through the night with her sanity intact without it. Trick's eyebrows rose incredulously and he scoffed, his hands remained buried in the rag he held between them._

"_You're cut off. And I suggest you take her," he nodded his head pointedly at Maia, snoring loudly into her casted arm, "home before she gets alcohol poisoning and makes a sloppy, disgusting mess in my bar."_

"_You knew, didn't you?" Bo's voice rang over the inarticulate din, she pointed her finger accusingly at her grandfather, her irritation with him over Dyson's secret doubled by the unsuccessful attempts at training he'd put her through all day. "You knew Dyson got his love back too, and you didn't tell me. Nobody told me! He should have told me!"_

"_Can it, Bo!" Maia's voice was muffled through her arm, she raised her face to glare blearily down the bar at the self-indulgent Succubus, a note of bitter resentment colored her tone and her words were slurred by intoxication, "who cares if he loves you? You already have Lauren, and she's crazy about you. Does everybody in the world absolutely have to be in love with you?"_

_Tamsin let out a sharp bark of laughter and tossed back her last shot of whiskey. She slapped Maia across the shoulders chummily, more than amused by the snarky, nasty tone the ordinarily soft-spoken human took with the whining mess on her other side, and the incredulous, offended glare Bo sent her in return._

"_Take. Her. Home." Trick's voice was soft with stern warning, his eyes widened with his irritation, and he dropped his rag onto the counter to begin wiping up the sticky mess Tamsin, Maia and Bo had left there. When Tamsin didn't move to leave, Trick leaned in to drive his impatience with her home, "Now."_

_Tamsin finally raised both hands in surrender and slurped down the shot Maia had left untouched._

"_Okay, fine. But the walking whiskey-skin has a point," Tamsin shrugged and slipped off her stool, one arm wound around Maia, whose head, bright red in an arc along the side she'd settled against her cast, lolled around her shoulders haphazardly. "Come on, Kid. Let's get you home." With a grunt, Tamsin managed to pull Maia off her seat. The curly-haired brunette grinned, her gaze dizzy and disoriented, at the Valkyrie that supported her, and dropped her head onto Tamsin's shoulder._

"_Oh, and I take my earlier statement back," Tamsin paused at Bo's shoulder, a bright, mischievous grin curled at the corners of her mouth, "she might be a lightweight, but at least she's funny when she's drunk."_

"_Totally worth claiming!" Maia laughed loudly, her gaze entirely disoriented and her smile sloppily arranged on her face. She stumbled against Tamsin as they shifted away from the bar toward the door. Tamsin replied with an affirmative colored with expletives, and a hoarse chuckle of her own, and the slinking, murky shadows that lurked just outside curled around the pair as they left like a malevolent breeze and they were gone._

_Bo sighed unhappily, her gaze fixed on the discarded tumbler in front of her and she picked it up again. She didn't intend to drink anymore, but it was something to do other than clench her fists until her nails broke the soft skin of her palms._

"_But you did know," Bo's voice was soft, she didn't raise her eyes to glance at Trick, who scrubbed away at the bar top distractedly. It hurt Bo to know that everyone had known before her – and not only because it was a secret kept deliberately from her, like so many others before. It bothered her because, as a Succubus, Bo should have seen it. She could read auras like people read street-signs and picture books, and Dyson's aura should have told her the instant he'd taken his love back from the Norn. How long had she been completely blind to the people around her, to the friends she claimed to value?_

_Trick paused momentarily. He looked at his granddaughter, and Bo finally looked up to meet his gaze. His expression was studious, a little inward, but not guarded._

"_Yes. I knew. But I think this is something you need to discuss with him," Trick's rough voice was soft, and was almost lost amid the steady hum of the Dal's busy ambiance. But his eyes, dark in the bar's dim light, finally settled on hers, and they were frank, and honest, and sympathetic. "I'm sure he has his reasons for not telling you, Bo."_

"_Forgot my glasses!" _

_Bo jumped a foot in her seat and twisted around to see Maia crashing into the bar beside her. Her face was flushed with the copious amounts of alcohol she'd consumed and the cold wind that blew unrelentingly outside, and her eyes glittered in the low lighting of the bar. She snatched her glasses and shoved them crookedly onto her face before collapsing against the stool Tamsin had vacated mere minutes ago and gave Bo a hard, considering look._

"_Everyone knew, Bo," she started, ignoring the disapproving frown on Trick's face and the irritated scowl on Bo's, "it was obvious, as plain as the nose on your face." Maia pressed her finger to the tip of her nose and went cross-eyed trying to stare at it. For a long minute, Bo just sat and stared at the odd little human skeptically. Finally, just as Bo opened her mouth to mumble an incoherent brushoff, Maia abruptly straightened and blinked._

"_The question you need to be asking is: 'Why couldn't I see it?'" Maia's head tilted and she gave Bo a considering look. Bo shivered and shifted uncomfortably. She felt like Maia wasn't simply looking at her, but like she was staring straight into her soul. It was a stripping, piercing stare, but it was brief, and Bo found when she looked back into Maia's eyes, partly concealed by the shine of her glasses, that the expression in them was one of kindness and empathy. For a brief instant, she almost reminded Bo of Kenzi._

"_There's a lot you've been missing that's right in front of your face, Bo," Maia's voice softened, cold fingers reached to brush lightly along Bo's forearm, "maybe you just need to stop looking at everything from behind your own eyes. Get a little perspective."_

"_You mean walk a mile in Dyson's shoes?"_

"_In everybody's shoes," Maia nodded in affirmation and pulled away. Her smile was thin and tight. Bo bit her lip and stared at the young woman that slouched on the stool opposite her and remembered suddenly the reason that Maia had come drinking with Tamsin in the first place: to mourn the death of a woman she'd loved. The anger and irritation she'd felt with Maia slipped away, shattered in the face of the compassion and circumspection such a nobody in her life had shown her with a few words and a little advice._

"_You have a lot going on right now, and you have to focus on your Dawning," Maia's voice was soft, but Bo could hear it clearly through the steady, unrelenting hum of noise and conversation around her, "sometimes the best way to focus on yourself is to focus on other people. The only way you can see the whole picture is by looking at everything else in it, right?"_

"_Thanks," Bo nodded and returned Maia's thin smile with a weak one of her own. Tamsin's blond hair and anxious face flashed from the door, it tore Bo's attention from the curly-haired brunette sitting opposite her, and she gave a forced nod in the Valkyrie's direction. "Are you going to be okay?"_

_Maia's guarded smile opened a little, she understood the question wasn't directed toward her intoxicated condition, or the Valkyrie that had claimed her with questionable intentions._

"_Yeah. I'm good," Maia sighed and shrugged, "or… I will be, anyway." Her eyes slunk to the blonde that waved her hands in the air in an unsubtle demand to get going, and she rolled her eyes before hopping off her stool. "Right. Glad to have been of service!" Maia slapped the counter with an open palm to signify her finality and shuffled away from the bar top, her gait still ungainly and her steps clumsy and uncoordinated. She paused within earshot and turned back around to look at Bo, her eyebrows were raised in an expression Bo couldn't quite read._

"_She's really a lot better than you guys give her credit for, by the way," Maia cocked her head towards Tamsin, to indicate who she was referring to, "once you gain a little perspective."_

_Bo almost laughed at the lopsided wink the scrawny human gave her. She felt Trick's presence as he moved closer to her, their arms brushed when he leaned over the freshly polished surface of his bar. _

"_I couldn't have given you better advice myself," his breath tickled in her ear when he spoke, she could smell the smoky sweetness of whiskey on his breath. He stared after Maia contemplatively before she disappeared with Tamsin out the door, then turned his soulful brown eyes on Bo._


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Since this chapter and the next are quite short, I will be posting Chapter 7 on Friday! It's a two chapter week! Yay! Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans! :) Review replies are at the end of the chapter this time, since they're so long, and I'm sure ya'll want to get to the story already! :) Thanks for the reviews, folks, they truly are the best parts of my week!

* * *

It was still early, but the Dal was already getting its first rush of evening revelers. Outside, the sun was just beginning to set, the sky was aflame with dark gold and blushing copper, and the blue that lingered at its edges and eventually crept again closer and closer to the horizon was slowly deepening into a velvety blanket of rich, royal purple.

Bo slipped in through the nondescript wooden door of the pub, her cheeks ruddy with the cool breeze that played between the buildings. The Dal was brightly lit, and warm, and Bo shrugged deeper into her jacket to shake off the evening's cold as she gave the bar a quick sweep with her sharp brown eyes. People milled around tables and at the bar itself, ordering pitchers of beer and bowls of pretzels to go around. She breathed in the quiet hum of conversation and music playing softly in the background, allowed herself to relax in the familiar, safe ambiance of one of her favorite haunts for many, many years, since she had sworn her fealty to the Blood King.

And there was Lauren, perched precariously on a stool close to the door. Her hair fell in a soft curtain of glimmering gold around her face and shoulders, and Bo ached to lean in and breathe in its sweet, warm scent. But Bo only stood for a moment to watch, even as people jostled and pushed around her to move in and out of the lively pub.

Bo had always loved to watch Lauren in her element. Even before the Norn had taken her love from her, when jealousy had boiled low in her stomach at the flirtatious smiles and gestures she shared with others. Even now, when those flirtatious smiles and gestures were directed towards Dyson. It was fascinating, watching the Succubus move and talk, a glowing beacon lost in a sea of admirers. Lauren was always so graceful, so composed. Her delicate movements, the subtle flutter of her fingers, the heavy-lidded hooding of her eyes, the shy, come-hither smile… Bo could watch Lauren for hours, could be entranced by her every action, her every word, with a fascination borne out of love, out of reverence.

But Lauren's movements today seemed oddly stiff, forcibly controlled. There was an intensity in those bright tawny eyes that worried the Wolf. And rather than stare in sublime fascination at the woman who'd stolen her heart, Bo forced herself to move from the door and lean nonchalantly against the counter at Lauren's side. Bo had a job to do. Today, she was a cop, asking a P.I. to help her with her investigation.

"Bo! Hey! How are you?" Lauren's tone was oddly high-pitched, at least to a Wolf's sensitive hearing. Bo tilted her head at the woman seated before her, noted the edgy way she glanced around herself at the other patrons at the bar, the hungry looks she gave them as they brushed past her. A coffee, an espresso by the smell and look of it, sat steaming in front of the Succubus, and Lauren took little, short sips from it.

"Hey, Lauren. I have a favor to ask of you," Bo's nostrils flared, her words were quiet and a little guarded. She hadn't seen Lauren like this in a very long time. The Succubus' movements were choppy and sharp, and it made Bo a little uneasy to see it.

Lauren took another drink of her coffee, her face pulled into a grimace at the bitterness of it, and she set it down again. Bo frowned at the tense, jittery hand that fluttered in acquiescence in her direction.

"Sure, great. I'll do it."

"You haven't even heard what 'it' is," Bo fingered the file she'd tucked under her arm, her discomfort at Lauren's uncharacteristic behavior grew with every passing second.

Lauren's sigh sounded frustrated, "Let's just say…" Lauren's attention jumped suddenly to a point somewhere behind Bo, her expression turned wistful, and Bo spun around to see the strutting woman that had taken Lauren's interest so suddenly, "… I could use the distraction," Lauren's words fell to a sigh, and she spun on her stool to follow the pretty little brunette with her eyes as she sauntered past.

"Okay," Bo responded after a moment, giving Lauren the minute she needed to regain her composure, "I need you to pose as a therapist at a New Age clinic."

Lauren's eyebrows twisted with her skepticism.

"How am I supposed to convince the clinic that I'm a doctor?"

Bo was prepared for Lauren's skepticism at least, if not her frazzled nerves and fidgety state. Bo produced a framed diploma from the misshapen file she carried under her arm and presented it to Lauren with a slight flourish.

"Ta-da," Bo's voice was only slightly less than enthusiastic. Lauren was already downing another long gulp from her swiftly disappearing espresso, and Bo's Wolfy-senses were tingling with suspicion.

"Doctor Helen Green from the Sedona Center for Psychological and Spiritual Healing," Lauren accepted the diploma in both hands even as she rattled off its certification. Skepticism still clouded her features. Even with her face lined by her obvious tension and doubt, Lauren was beautiful, and it made Bo smile to see the Succubus turn in her seat to face her, to see the lines of her face glowing against the light of the bar. Her breath when she spoke smelled of coffee and that sweet, honeyed flavor that Bo had long since come to associate with Lauren. Even the annoyance that filtered her expression and words brightened the smile that lit Bo's features. Lauren dropped the diploma on the table, her mouth twisted into a dismayed frown that threatened to make Bo laugh. "I couldn't have gone to Harvard?"

"You haven't seen the clinic," Bo couldn't help but smirk.

"What am I looking for?" Lauren's coffee was in her hands again, and she tilted it to drink before realizing it was empty.

"Well…" This time, it was Bo to drop her file onto the waxed surface on the bar in front of Lauren, "this is a list of all our vics. We need you to access their patient files, find out why they're doing these crazy stunts and killing themselves," Bo's voice dropped to a low whisper. She leaned in to Lauren conspiratorially, and was instantly flooded by her sweet, honey-suckle scent.

The file was instantly opened between Lauren's hands, and she frowned down at the pages that depicted the pictures and CODs of all the victims that had been connected so far with the Better Way Clinic. Lauren hummed in consideration, her focus finally on the task at hand.

"Sounds, uh…" And just as quickly as Bo had gained Lauren's focus, it was gone. The Succubus' gaze rose to the Fae that strode past her, and the file closed again as she spun around in her stool to stare as a well-built, well-dressed man slipped past, "delicious…" the end of Lauren's sentence came in a low, distracted mumble. The sigh Lauren uttered and the frustrated expression on her face as she spun all the way around back to the bar troubled Bo. Now, the Wolf was truly starting to worry. She hadn't seen Lauren behave this way in months, even years, since the Succubus had finally learned how to curb her hunger, how to feed safely, and had begun receiving shots from the human doctor to help her.

And Bo knew very well that Lauren must be feeding. She knew Lauren and Dyson had finally bridged the gap between friends and lovers, that they'd owned to their feelings and decided to give a relationship a real shot, instead of dancing around their attraction. As much as Bo had ached to tell Lauren just how she felt, to explain to her that she had gotten her love back from the Norn, she had held back for just that reason. Because Lauren was finally happy, even if it was with a human doctor.

But the way Lauren was behaving now… it raised certain questions for Bo. And the answers Lauren might give her wishful heart could change everything.

So the Wolf tilted her head backward, her hair whispering over her shoulders and falling down her back, and wrinkled her nose in concerned confusion at the beautiful, frustrated, sexy Succubus sitting in front of her.

"You know," Bo began, her tone a little joking and a little suspicious, all at once, "if I didn't know any better, I'd think you looked a little…"

Lauren perked up, as if sensing the coming adjective, "Smart?" she challenged, "gorgeous?" her eyebrows rose aggressively and she bobbed towards Bo on her stool, like a boxer feinting an attack, "tall?"

"Hungry." Bo leveled her gaze on the prickly blonde, though her voice was soft and her expression concerned. She wanted Lauren to know she wasn't challenging her, only that she was worried, and it worried Bo more to see how eager Lauren was to argue, how twitchy her movements were, and how easily distracted she was by any and every half-attractive morsel that crossed her path.

Lauren shrunk back in her seat, instantly deflated, and Bo knew immediately that she was right.

"You and Dyson didn't…" Bo slashed her fingers across her throat to express termination, her thoughts hopeful and concerned all at once, "… did you?"

"No!" Lauren pulled back in her seat, her expression at once annoyed and defensive, and Bo cringed inwardly at what she sensed was coming next, "and P.S., our sex life is awesome," Lauren picked up her coffee again, her tone slid easily from pissed off and defensive to proud and defensive within a few, short words, "maybe a little _too _awesome." The Succubus tilted her coffee cup at Bo, and a grin that Bo had grown to love crept onto Lauren's lips. It was a happy smile, and the glow that Bo had begun to recently recognize as Dyson's doing beamed through the thin lines of frustration on Lauren's face, and those lines faded away in that glow's wake.

Envy and hurt burned low in Bo's belly, but also a small sense of relief to see Lauren still so happy. It always left her feeling so conflicted: to ache to be the cause of Lauren's joy, but also to be so glad just to see it, even though it hurt.

Lauren hadn't the faintest idea that Bo's love had been returned to her, and Bo wanted to keep it that way, to keep Lauren happy and blissful and un-conflicted. So she smiled her best smile and nodded her head and compartmentalized and buried every complicated emotion she felt for the sake of the woman she called, in her heart of hearts, her mate.

"Okay!" Bo responded cheerfully, "just askin'," her voice fell to a resigned mumble, though she kept her smile firmly glued to her lips. "I think though," Bo leaned in to take Lauren's cup from her hands, "…someone here has had enough coffee for the day." She gently guided the empty cup back to the table, her lips pressed into a tired, unhappy line despite herself, and watched Lauren push it away desultorily once it finally rested on the table.

It _was_ hard, seeing Lauren with another person. _Especially_ when that other person was Dyson.

It hadn't always been hard. It hadn't been hard when the Norn had taken her love from her. It hadn't been hard when it was Ryan that courted Lauren, even if the self-involved, arrogant prick was Dark Fae and bad news. It had pissed her off a little, but it hadn't hurt to see the way Ryan looked at her, or the way she stared back lustily at him. It hadn't even hurt at the beginning, when she'd finally returned to the precinct after a long disappearance, trying to fill the empty void that was left behind when the Norn had taken away everything that mattered to her, in return for Lauren's life.

Sometimes, Bo wondered which had been worse: the emptiness that had hollowed her out when she'd given away her love, or the way her lungs deflated and her stomach clenched and her heart ached now, whenever she saw Lauren with Dyson. One was a cold emptiness that had taken everything that Bo was, everything that she'd loved and valued, and turned her alien, into someone she couldn't recognize. The other was a ceaseless, throbbing ache that constantly threatened to overtake her. Both destroyed her.

But seeing Lauren in love with someone else destroyed her a little more.

Still, she wouldn't give away the love she'd lost for all the empty relief in the world. Even if the grief she felt destroyed her equilibrium, and left her lost in a mire of breathless anguish and distraction.

It wasn't always this bad. There were days when the shadow Bo found herself living under simply seemed to blend in with the colorless, bleak days that spread before her, and it was easier for Bo to lose herself in her work as a detective and find some small comfort in the afternoons she spent boxing with Tamsin and the evenings they spent drinking at the Dal. Lauren was happy, it had been all too clear to Bo the first time she'd caught her mate with the human doctor. And as much as Bo wished Lauren could be happy with her, she was grateful that Lauren was happy, at least.

But there were other days when thoughts of Lauren flooded her like a swarm of locusts, and blotted out every moment with the hopelessness of living life without her. On these days, Bo found it hard to focus on anything. Her thoughts and movements would turn sluggish, her attitude surly, and it was all Bo could do to get through the crippling pain of losing her mate, and seeing her with another.

* * *

Leader: I was trying to make it more obvious as I went along, all the weird stuff that's been going on with Bo, Aife, Jack (who's supposed to be dead), even Seth (who's also supposed to be dead), and then with the bold bit in chapter 4 and the strange discontinuity in the last chapter – that's all a part of Bo's Dawning. This story arc is about Bo's Dawning, and we've jumped straight into it. There's going to be a lot of discontinuity as we jump from one of Bo's issues to another, and there's going to be a lot of weirdness going on. There is only one part of every mini-story arc that is real, that has really truly happened in the physical world. When Maia told Bo she needed to walk a mile in Dyson's shoes, this is something Bo's taken very seriously to heart. So in a way, in her own mind, she's walking a somewhat literal mile in Dyson's shoes! The fact that Bo hadn't been able to see how Dyson felt by his aura was something that troubled me for much of the third season, and I wanted to explore that. This mini-story was actually one of my favorites to write, not just for that reason, but because I switched up the roles so weirdly. I had a lot of fun with it. As for flashbacks, I wouldn't so much call them that as fluid explanations for what's happened since everyone left O'Meara's mansion and Lauren discovered that O'Meara is not Bo's biological father. Like Bo on the train in 402, Bo knows what happened, knows Kenzi, Dyson, Lauren, Trick and Tamsin, but at the same time, she doesn't. In this story, she's not remembering these things, but they're there for you to fill in the pieces, and to add context and togetherness to Bo's scattered consciousness. It's a weird strategy I took, I admit, but I hope it works. =)

Gogobolo: Bo's Dawning is going to force her to see a lot of things differently, and it's going to do that in a lot of different ways: some of them not too harsh, but most of them very painful. And Lauren's been put in a very difficult position! There's already a lot going on between her and Bo, it's hard to imagine having to hold on to anything else that could drive a wedge between them. In my own mind, Lauren is the biggest hero in LG – not just because of the situations she's thrown into and the impossible decisions she's forced to make, but because of the way she handles them in such a selfless, quiet, modest way. She does what she does and is the way she is because it's right, it's just, and because she can, regardless of whether anyone ever knows, notices or cares. I once read a quote that read something like: 'the most selfless acts are the ones no one ever knows about', and I've found that Lauren is the perfect embodiment and example of that. It's a big part of the reason I love her and look up to her the way that I do. I really hope my rendition of Bo's Dawning won't seem wasted to you when it's all said and done, and that I live up to the expectations that were set up in the show pre-"Ceremony". This is supposed to be brutal, and one of the hardest experiences Bo will ever go through; something that really threatens her very soul, sanity and existence, but will ultimately make her evolve as both a person and a Succubus should she succeed. And yes, it's a lot! I can't help you with the drink, but I can offer you a smiley :) and a promise that things WILL get better, eventually.

KD99: Wow, what a huge compliment, to be called an 'obviously gifted writer', so let me start off by saying simply: thank you. =) It made my day to read that, it was absolutely hands-down the best part of my day. And I'd had a damn good day! I originally wanted to PM you directly on this topic of Lauren and Bo, because you're absolutely right, and I hadn't realized it until you pointed it out to me, but your PMs are turned off. I wrote this story entirely out of sequence, actually, which is perhaps why it didn't occur to me how much angst there was without very much reprieve. I will say that there is a little Doccubus fluff coming in the next few chapters, and since some of these coming chapters are going to be posted bi-weekly, that should be coming soon. I had a lot more to say about why I wrote this book as angsty and difficult as it is, but since this is the A/N and I'm pretty sure there are rules about half the chapter being notes rather than fiction, I'll keep it brief. Tamsin said in season 3 that the Dawning is the most brutal thing Bo will ever go through times infinity. With the Dawning in season 3 turning out so disappointing, I wanted to try my own hand at it, and yes – it's going to be really, agonizingly painful. But I have taken your comment to heart, I've gone through some of the chapters to come and amped up and added new scenes with nicer feels (where it fits), and I hope I've made it a little easier in the chapters to come to get through all the pain that Bo has to go through herself. There are also some chapters later on in the book with some scenes for Bo and Lauren that I hope turned out as beautiful as they were in my head. My craft is a work-in-progress, and I'm not afraid to change 'finished' chapters in the hope of improvement, so thank you so much for telling me how you felt about it, and I really hope I've balanced out the next few chapters to make the experience a little less difficult for you than it is for Bo. :) As for my old fanfic, it's around, it's been at least a decade since I've even looked at it, so I'm quite sure it's terrible. But if you promise not to poke fun at me, I'll hunt around for it and see if I can find my old handle and pass you the link.


	7. Chapter 7

_It was rare to hear the sound of crickets chirping from inside the Dal, especially at such an early hour. But tonight, the sweet, soothing chorus filtered through the still air, barely muffled by the thick brick walls of the unusually quiet pub. Bo could even hear the steady hum of the electric and gas lights, sucking in energy and oxygen to keep flickering warmly and unsteadily against the smooth, polished surface of the bar, where a range of empty tumblers and tankards and shot glasses were scattered in an abandoned array around her. Even Trick was downstairs, in his lair, and Bo could just hear the scrape of his furniture, and the muffled crackle of pages turning and the dull thump of books being organized as he moved around and tidied his home. Tonight had been a short celebration, a congratulation to Bo for successfully completing the Game, and receiving her official invitation to the Dawning, and tomorrow would return to business and training as usual. Just for a couple more days before her Dawning would begin._

_And Bo only leaned against the bar with her eyes closed, drinking in the almost-silence, the unsettled stillness and tense peace that surrounded her as if it were one of the last she might feel for the rest of her life. Because, for all Bo knew, it might be. Carefully, slowly, she sipped at the dregs of the wine in her glass, rolled the rich, warm bitterness in her mouth, tasted the woody oak tones and inhaled the smoky sweetness with an appreciation not necessarily for its flavor, but for the simple awareness of appreciation._

_She was only alone for a few minutes, it had not been long since Kenzi had retreated to Trick's study to further annoy the old bartender, or since Dyson and Hale had bid her good luck and left for home, before the door to the Dal scraped open again and Bo found herself with company once more._

_She'd been texting Lauren all evening, trying to apologize to her for missing her girlfriend's awards ceremony the night before, but hadn't heard back all night. So Bo was bitterly disappointed when short blond curls, arranged in a messy halo around a ruggedly handsome face, poked in through the door and Dyson stepped fully inside._

"_Bo," his low, scratchy voice was as uncertain as his expression, he allowed the door to fall shut behind him and took another tentative step in Bo's direction, "I just wanted to say…" he hesitated, it gave Bo enough time to plunk her wineglass on the bar and close the distance between them._

"_What?" Bo's voice was a little more aggressive than she'd intended, but her heart beat heavily in her chest and anxiety and anger coiled low in her belly together. She'd managed enough patience with him to get through their last minute celebration earlier, but now she was too tired and too frightened to try to manage any more. And it had been over a week since Bo had discovered Dyson had taken his love back from the Norn, and though she'd tried, desperately, to take Maia's advice and understand Dyson's reticence, she couldn't seem to make herself see why he still hadn't confessed to her._

_Dyson was never one to cow in the face of aggression however. Like the Alpha he clearly was, the Wolf drew himself up, and his expression turned hard and stoic, and he set his shoulders back and stared down at Bo in a way that instantly made her regret her rash annoyance._

"_I just wanted to say: good luck," his voice was soft, but it surrounded Bo with a familiarity and sense of safety Bo longed for in the chaotic, messy, frightening weeks she'd pushed herself through. She frowned up at the Wolf she'd once loved, once given her whole heart to, and struggled not to rebel against the feeling of security that low, rumbling tone tried to give her now. She held his gaze for a long minute before she felt herself deflate in submission, and heaved a heavy, tired sigh, and dropped her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart beat under her fingertips, strong and steady and reliable, under the rough, curly hair that grew on his chest and the soft shirt he wore, and spread her fingers widely across to feel it all the better._

"_Thanks," her muttered words were almost drowned out by the soft symphony of the crickets outside, but Bo knew he heard her. She could hear his breath escape his nostrils when he relaxed and smiled, though she focused her gaze on her fingers splayed across his chest. His large, strong hands brushed the hair back from her shoulders and settled in its place, warm and comforting._

"_You know, there's a way for me to come with you," his rough voice was soft and a little hesitant. Bo chanced a glance up at him, his eyes glimmered down at her, opaque and swirling with turmoil, "if I offer myself as Hand."_

_Bo took a step back, her face tightened into a scowl, and she drew her hands down beside her, clenched into fists. The memory of Dyson, beaten and hobbling on a shattered ankle, but still willing to fight and die for her at O'Meara's mansion, flashed in the whirling tumult of her thoughts, and though Bo had been distracted at the time, she'd seen the shift in his attitude, the understanding he'd suddenly experienced that Bo could fight, and win, her own battles, and the acknowledgement of the strength he'd loved and ignored in her until that point. The way he'd been behaving since – the backseat he'd taken in all of Bo's struggles, the supporting role he'd assumed – Bo had believed that Dyson had finally understood that Bo was not simply another maiden in distress. Perhaps he had finally understood it, for a little while._

"_No way," Bo's answer was immediate. She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered up at him, furious that he'd even offered._

"_Do you even know what that means?" Dyson chuckled quietly, the anxious lines of his face softened considerably by the expression and he smiled down at Bo, undeterred and undaunted by the angry scowl she returned him._

"_I don't have to, to know that you're up to something," she retorted, "this is my fight. Did it ever occur to you that I don't need taking care of?" Though Bo's words started sharply, biting and aggressive, they softened as she spoke. Her arms fell to her sides again, and the scowl she'd worn melted into a tired frown. She didn't want to fight with Dyson. She was tired of fighting with Dyson. And she didn't want to say anything she couldn't take back._

_Dyson dropped his head, defeated. He'd known the offer would be met with refusal, this much was clear to Bo in the subtle way he shook his head and smiled at her through his worry. But that he'd made the offer anyway meant the world to Bo. _

_The smile on Dyson's lips trembled for a minute, but held, and when Bo stepped close to him again, and dropped her hands on his chest once more, he grasped her hands in his to give emphasis to his softly spoken words, "I know. I just want to be here for you." _

_Bo's eyebrows knit into a tight frown at the tender, worried smile he gave her._

"_Why?" she asked simply, her fingers tightened over the creases of his shirt, and she could feel her lips tremble with the tension that stiffened her frame and corded the muscles along her shoulders. His fingers pressed gently into them, rubbed unconsciously in an effort to ease her discomfort and anxiety, and he looked down at her for a moment contemplatively before his smile faded and his expression sombered, and he answered as simply as she'd asked._

"_Because I love you." _

_Though Bo had already known, for some time now, the simplicity and forthrightness of his answer took her aback. Her hands fell from his chest, her mouth dropped open, and his own hands slid from her shoulders. She stared up at him almost incredulously, her expression drawn and tight, and stepped back a little, as if taking more of him in visually would somehow gain her insight._

"_Was that so hard to say?" her tone was harsher than she'd intended, she didn't mean to scold. And Bo realized that instead of the relief she thought she'd feel at his confession, frustration rolled instead, and the anger and tension she'd managed to suppress, for the most part, until this moment, were finally breaking free. She felt herself tense with it, and clenched her hands on either side of her in a futile attempt to reign it all in._

_Dyson's shoulders fell and his chin dipped. "You're with Lauren now," he sounded resigned and he shrugged helplessly at her, "I can't say that I like it, but I respect it."_

_Bo's anger and frustration, coiling and rumbling in a thunderhead in her chest, finally broke loose, and she slammed her fist into his shoulder to give vent to it. Dyson fell back a step with a grunt softened by quiet, almost surprised laughter, and rather than face the chivalry and charm that disgusted and annoyed her so much right now, Bo spun on her heel and stomped away._

"_God, I won't be much help setting up for the Ceremony if I'm crippled." Bo could hear the grin in his words while he joked, and she scowled, though with her back turned to him, she knew he couldn't see it._

"_You're not going to be much help to anyone if you're pining away for me, you moron!" Bo finally turned back around to face him, comprehension spreading across her features like furious thunder rolling in from a great distance. "Wait," horror and anger flared in Bo's eyes, dark and glinting in the flickering light of the Dal, "was that supposed to be some suicide mission?" The way Dyson shook his head and looked away from her only stoked Bo's growing anger, her voice rose with her frustration, "some kind of male honor bullshit?!"_

"_I offered because I want to be there for you," his voice was soft and low, but Bo could hear the growl he suppressed, and ignored it._

"_Why?"_

"_Because you would do the same for me." Dyson moved slowly, he stepped in close to Bo, his voice still soft and low, but the growl in his tone was gone and replaced by something more intimate and tender. The shadows that fell flickeringly across his face played over the lines of worry on his brow, and he stared down at Bo as if trying to pour all the love he felt in his heart for her through his eyes and into hers. "Because in the last three years, I've learned more from you than I've learned in the first fifteen hundred from every other person I've ever met." His rough hands enveloped Bo's. She could feel her heart slam in her chest and beat in time with the pulse that pounded through his fingertips into hers, and she couldn't turn away from the intensity of his gaze. "Even if I can't have you, even if I can't be with the woman that I love with every ounce of my being…" Dyson's words faded away, replaced by a self-deprecating chuckle and a smile so sad it brought tears to Bo's eyes. "Look, I'm just a Wolf," he laughed quietly, his voice so soft it seemed to drown among the quiet, rhythmic chirping of the crickets outside, "standing in front of a Succubus, asking her to –"_

"_A-hole!" Bo yanked her hands free of his and slammed her fist into Dyson's shoulder again. Fury and frustration broke again, and her voice shook with emotion despite her attempt to hide it by shouting._

_Dyson fell back and laughed, the lines on his face disappearing behind the mirth of his expression. "I deserve that!" he grunted, his own voice breaking with his laughter._

"_You are the most frustrating, stubborn, ass-face that I have ever met!" Bo shouted back at him, arms waving with her aggravation and her face twisted with hurt and grief and despair._

"_Hey, I don't like me much either, trust me!" Dyson was still laughing, it only aggravated Bo more to see him this way, so accepting and self-deprecating. His light laughter fueled Bo's anger, and she stomped toward him, her jaw clenched and her tears beginning to spill over and her heart tight with a desperation she didn't expect to feel. _

"_Stop! Stop being so charming, this isn't the time, okay? I will kill you!" Her words left her in a rush of air, half-growled and half-hearted. He had loved her for months now, and hadn't said a word, hadn't interfered, had been selfless and suffered silently, and he'd done it because he loved her. Because he loved her enough to see her happy with someone else and cared more for her happiness and comfort than for his own. It broke Bo's heart, and the realization of all this melted away Bo's anger. The vise-grip her frustration with him held over her slipped away and she was left with nothing but sympathy for his pain and a deeper love, understanding and trust for the man that had stood by her side since the beginning._

_Bo stared up at Dyson, her eyes still filled with tears and his warm breath breaking across her face, and felt herself calm as the seconds slipped past them, unnoticed, uncounted, like so many others they'd shared, and when she finally broke the stillness between them, her words were quiet and trembling in the pregnant silence, "So what happens now?"_

"_Nothing," he answered, his voice as quiet as hers and his tone as intimate. His hand ghosted up her arm and she felt the gentle pressure of his fingertips against her neck, a light current of electricity that left her skin burning with the intensity of his touch, "But ask me again in a hundred years, when things are different…" Dyson leaned in, and Bo closed her eyes at the familiarity of this gesture, lost to the moment and the chorus of crickets that seemed to escalate around them. The last of his words fell across her mouth, lips brushed to lips, a final sweet kiss that tingled against her skin and blinded her with the weight of its meaning: 'Goodbye,' it said, 'for now.'_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yes, I know. This chapter was actually kind of Dybo. Don't fret, and don't panic, it's the last one, and one I felt that I, at least, needed for closure on their relationship. We had it in the series, and I was missing it in my story, so the chapter of Bo and Dyson is over, for at least the next century. Yay!

Leader: Kenzi for me is an incredibly pivotal character. Bo's life, in my humble opinion, would have been vastly different if she had not saved, and then later properly met Kenzi way back in the first episode at that hotel bar. So yes, I was exploring what life for Bo might have been like if Aife and Jack (or some embodiment of the father she believes she has) had found her first, and if they'd been the ones to introduce her to the Fae and to shape her beliefs and views on the Fae world, rather than Trick, Dyson and especially very human Kenzi. It was an interesting exercise for both myself and Bo in her Dawning mentality. Her understanding of the world, both Fae and human, and her treatment and attitude toward everything and everyone in it is a huge part of what makes her who she is. Ultimately, an understanding of who Bo is as a person is really what her Dawning is about. At least, that was the way I was given to understand it from the show. The "real world" interactions between Bo and Lauren are coming. A few scenes will start to bleed in here and there soon, but in a way, for the past seven chapters, we've been seeing their interactions in Lauren's apparent absence in Bo's day-to-day life. Things between them have been rocky and strained, and while it's really hard to portray the absence of something, it's a challenge I've decided to take on.


	8. Chapter 8

Bo couldn't say she hadn't expected to feel this way. She had known what it would do to her, to offer herself so fully up to Lauren in the way that she had, with no strings attached.

The phrase was meaningless, Bo discovered. There was never any situation in which two people slept together and there were no strings attached. Not really. Every small, subtle interaction between two people always left at least the thinnest wisp of a connection, and the less than subtle interaction Bo had shared with Lauren, even if it was out of necessity for the latter, had dragged Bo along by a thick, heavy, throbbing umbilical cord.

Not that Bo would ever have done it any other way. Lauren had been bleeding internally, and if they had waited to take her to a hospital, she might not have survived the trauma. Bo would have gladly given her life for Lauren's safety, and in a way, perhaps she already had.

The sex had been quick, and passionate, and fervent: all teeth and tongues and grunts of pain and pleasure, shoved up against a cold wall and grinding against cold steel tables that steamed over with every sizzling touch. And Lauren had walked away without a scratch, without a dent, but for the overwhelming guilt of having cheated on her monogamous lover – even if it was out of necessity.

But for Bo, it had been more than just primal urges and toe-curling climaxes. She had taken Lauren's internal hemorrhage and carried it for her. She felt herself bleeding inside, the emotions she'd kept locked and hidden as deep within as she could contain them were spilling out and leaving a messy, bloody trail of anguish and despair and loneliness behind. Her gut wrenched with the gaping hole Lauren had left in her wake when she'd dressed hurriedly and rushed out of the precinct: a throbbing ache Bo didn't know how to ease and had accepted with a morbid, macabre willingness to absorb all of Lauren's pain and make it her own.

"Ms. Dennis, are you alright?"

The pudgy psychiatrist opposite her was leaning towards her in his plush leather armchair, an expression of concern painted clearly across his chubby face. Lines squiggled across his brow, his greying hair thinned visibly over the top of his head and his glasses flashed in the dim lighting of his office. Bo smiled thinly at him, the expression never quite reaching her eyes.

"Kind of," she started, still somewhat lost in the broken muddle of her thoughts, "um…" she drew in a deep breath and focused on putting away her musings for examination later, when work wasn't such a priority. But Lauren's face still flashed behind her eyelids every time Bo blinked, and the sweet, honeyed scent of her lingered even through the overpowering smells of chemicals and the vanilla incense that burned on Doctor Palmer's desk.

"You know, I actually think I do need a little help emotionally, doc," Bo laughed self-deprecatingly and dropped her head into one hand. Her fingers rubbed across her brow to her temples in a futile attempt to smooth the lines of exhaustion and melancholy left there in Lauren's wake.

A cat yowled, tearing Bo from her thoughts and bringing her attention to the little gray tabby crouched primly beside Doctor Palmer's chair. It licked its chops at Bo, its feline eyes staring intently, almost challengingly at the Wolf that stared back with rapt attention.

Doctor Palmer seemed almost at a loss.

"Sorry about that, Doctor Bob is usually so friendly," consternation colored the pudgy old man's tone and drew lines in shadows across his face. The cat yowled again contrarily and dashed away into the shadows. Bo followed its movements until it vanished, the thin, polite smile on her face turning to one of bemusement.

"Must be my dogs," she offered in explanation, "I have dogs." Bo licked her lips and glanced back towards the shadows into which the cat disappeared. If nothing else, the cat – Doctor Bob – had brought her focus back to the task at hand: the question of whether Doctor Palmer himself was Fae. How apropos, that she'd been the one to come and smell out Palmer's true identity, when she might actually be in need of a psychiatrist's professional help with the sticky issue that had sent her here to investigate in the first place.

Bo drew in a deep breath, and the overpowering smells of chemicals and vanilla and cat litter assaulted her senses again. They clogged her nose, and the subtler scents of the Fae were lost to their jarring, corrosive odor. She breathed in deeply again, trying to pick up any underlying smells, but could smell nothing else.

"Allergies?" Doctor Palmer peered at her through his round, thick-rimmed glasses. Bo wondered if that expression of concerned consternation was just a reaction to her slightly odd behavior or if it was simply a fixture on his flabby face.

"No," she responded, still trying to sort through the barrage of smells she'd gathered through her powerful nose, "I smell layers… chemical compounds, a… hint of vanilla," Bo's face scrunched a little, partly in detached disgust and partly in focused contemplation.

"Oh… Oh gosh, is it the incense, the candles," he waved his fingers at the scented sticks smoldering slowly on his desk beside him, before cocking his head forward and furrowing his brow, "the cat litter?"

Bo drew in another deep breath, her head tilted toward the side in an attempt to draw in as many different scents as she could catch, and Doctor Palmer's eyebrows rose comically in avid, confused curiosity.

"I must say you have a remarkable sense of smell," his wonder showed in his voice, it was almost enough to make Bo laugh. It was also enough to tell Bo that this rotund, pudgy creature was likely not Fae, he lacked the imagination to pick up on all the social cues that told him he was in the presence of another, and even through the cat litter, at such a close approximation, Bo was quite sure she should have been able to pick up on any non-human scents he might emit.

Still, it was frustrating to Bo that even her Wolfy senses could not pick up on any other scents in the vicinity. How could everything be slipping away from her so slowly? To lose Lauren in the way that she had, to have slept with her to save her life, only to watch her run back into the arms of her human lover, and now, to lose a part of her that made her Fae, even if it was only temporary, and caused by an outside influence?

"It's usually a little more remarkable, actually," Bo nodded her agreement, though her brow scrunched with her own anxious confusion. Was she truly so inadequate, as a Fae and as a lover, that she could not help Lauren even with this simple task?

"Well," Doctor Palmer's grating, nasally voice interrupted Bo's steady stream of self-loathing. He straightened himself in his chair and wove his hands together on his lap, apparently ready to begin the session that Bo hadn't really planned on attending. "Shall we begin?"

Well, if she wasn't going to discover the actual whereabouts or identity of the Fae she, Tamsin and Lauren were hunting down, she may as well get a little insight and a little inside help with the feelings that had clouded her mind and had sat a tangled, jumbled, festering mess in her chest.

"Sure," Bo rearranged herself on the couch opposite Doctor Palmer's, her face still twisted in consternation and disapproval and more than a little skepticism, then dropped her palms on her knees and closed her eyes. The tinkling, musical sound of wind chimes danced in the air somewhere outside, and after a moment of simply listening to them and the quiet of the room, Doctor Palmer began.

"Your arms and legs… feel heavy," his voice was lower than it had been before, and he spoke slowly. Bo willed herself to relax, to feel the heaviness Doctor Palmer suggested. Lauren lingered at the edges of her focus, a mirage in the corners of her eyes. "Slip deeper, and deeper… into a relaxed state." Bo breathed slowly, ignored the aggressive scents that danced on the edge of her nose, and forced the muscles along her shoulders to drop, and the bunched, jangled nerves around her neck to relax. "Deeper," Doctor Palmer's voice began to drift, to swim in the blackness behind her eyes, far behind the laughing, tawny gaze of the woman she loved, a deep, rough accompaniment to the chimes that still rang somewhere out of sight, "and deeper."

"Now," Doctor Palmer's voice became a background buzz in Bo's consciousness, a suggestive guidance that she followed, leaving behind all the skepticism she held for the techniques the Doctor believed in, ones she found herself willing to believe in too, if it would only take away the doubt that curled in her belly and made her question everything about herself. If it would only lead her away from the sculpted-sugar lines of Lauren's face, from the fire that danced under her skin whenever Lauren touched her. "I want you to reach way back into your earliest childhood," like smoke curling in thin tendrils around her, Bo could feel herself get lost in the Doctor's deep, rich voice. Her body relaxed, she followed the sound of his voice to wherever it led her. Still, Lauren followed, a sweet underline to everything that Bo ever did, ever since the unaligned Succubus had come running into her life. "Remember that time of endless possibilities and idyllic dreams. I want you to think about one of those dreams. Focus on it… Become it…"

There had been a time when Lauren had been a part of those endless possibilities, when she had been that idyllic dream. There had been a time when Bo had been the same for Lauren. And even as Bo focused on her childhood memories – on those times of long ago, before buildings and cars and civilization had sprung up about her, when the Fae and humans had lived almost side by side, one almost entirely aware of the other, almost accepting of the other – the sweet, honeyed scent of Lauren, the tawny eyes, the little dip just below her lower lip, followed her wherever she went. And every childhood dream Bo had ever had was saturated with thoughts of Lauren, had become caused by thoughts of Lauren.

Perhaps if Bo had become a Gryphon, like she'd dreamt as a child, rather than a Wolf, Lauren might still love her now. Perhaps if she'd been that creature of strength, the Norn might never have been able to steal away that precious love she'd had for Lauren, might never have dared.

Even in the glades, where Bo had grown up amongst her pack, ready and anxious to devote her life and pledge her fealty to her King, Lauren's gentle laughter and shy, straightforward smiles and hooded eyes followed her. When pure, clean sunlight fell on Bo's skin, it was Lauren's gaze that fell upon her. When the sweet-smelling breeze – made thick by the rich, damp smells of moss and earth and growing things and sweet by the fragrant aromas of the flora that grew in a dazzling, colorful abundance all around her – kissed her face and filled her nostrils, it was Lauren's breath, her sweet, dizzying scent, that kissed her face and left her lashes fluttering with its intensity. And when birdsong erupted in a chorus of 'hello's and 'goodbye's and 'my, isn't life sweet's, it was Lauren's voice, her laughter, that erupted in a chorus that made Bo's heart sing with the simple joys of life.

And when Bo was only a pup, surrounded by friends and family that loved her, when she'd dreamed of being a Gryphon, it was for Lauren that Bo dreamed of being such a creature of strength and magnificence. It was for her, for Lauren's love, that Bo dreamed of being the very best that she could be. And that past was lost in her present, and inextricably tangled into her future. There never was, and never would be a time, when Bo did or would not want to be the very, absolute best for her mate.

Wolves only mated once, and they mated for life. Past, present and future.

And in the dense fog of her oldest memories, Lauren's voice called to her. It called her name, and it sounded sharp and sweet to Bo's ears. When she turned, standing shirtless on the ledge from which she would fly into the endless sky, Lauren's blond hair glinted in the sunlight and fluttered with the gentle breeze, and her warm brown eyes were crinkled against the sun's bright glare. Bo smiled, filled her lungs with air that smelled faintly of honeysuckle, and was grateful.

"Lauren," Bo breathed her name like a prayer, drank the sight of her like it was nectar, "I'm so glad you're here to see my transformation."

She was so beautiful, an angel standing against a backdrop of mundane gray buildings and roads. In a few minutes, Bo would jump off the edge and transform mid-fall. Her wings would spread and she'd cry into the endless, swallowing sky, the sun would glimmer off her pinions as she swooped and tumbled in the air, and when she landed beside Lauren, maybe Lauren would love her more. Maybe she'd bury those perfect, delicate fingers into the soft feathers around her neck and bury her face into her shoulder, and love her again.

"Into a Gryphon?" Lauren sounded breathless, as if she'd run up many flights of stairs to reach her. Bo always felt like that, when Lauren was near.

"I grew up hearing about them: a creature of strength and magnificence!" Bo felt the air rush around her bare shoulders, goading her, calling to her, "I wanted to be them so badly." She turned her face into the wind, it ruffled the hair that fell down her back, but it was only Lauren's eyes on her that tickled and warmed her skin.

"You are strong and magnificent," Lauren's voice approached her slowly, she could hear the steady click of Lauren's heels on the cement floor of the roof. Bo's heart expanded in her chest to hear Lauren's voice grow close and soften. "You are a Wolf," Lauren's voice was right behind her now, "loved," Bo turned, "by so many people."

Bo stared at the woman that had stolen her heart, filled her eyes with the soft lines of her face, the warm shape of her mouth, the glow of her hair, and breathed in that sweet honeyed scent again. But if Bo didn't have Lauren's love, then no other man, woman, child or beast's love ever mattered at all.

"Not by you," she said softly. Lauren's love was all that mattered, all that would ever matter. Lauren stared back at her, her mouth slightly open and her expression one of such mystification. She didn't know that Bo loved her, how Bo loved her. And then Lauren hesitated.

"Bo…" Lauren took a step closer, close enough to touch, and her expression softened, "you are the Wolf. Strong. Fast. Fierce."

If Lauren always looked at her the way that she looked at her now, Bo would be happy. The words that came from Lauren's mouth made her swell with pride, but there were three words more she needed, ached to hear. The wind keened behind her, played with her hair, if Lauren were to reach out for her, Bo knew she would fall right into her arms. It was all Bo ever wanted.

"But my dream," her dream of Lauren, past, present and future, called and sighed in the wind that ruffled through her long, dark hair. Lauren loved her, in that dream. And as much as she ached to fall into Lauren's arms even now, into the arms of a woman that loved her only as a friend and found romantic bliss in the arms of another, she ached all the more to fall into the arms of the dream she'd had in Doctor Palmer's office, where Lauren loved her, and only her.

"It was the dream of a child," Lauren's warm voice broke through Bo's wishes, a puff of air that sent the seeds of a dandelion scattering and drifting in the wind.

Lauren's arm reached up to her. Her outstretched fingers seared into Bo's skin, demanding the satisfaction of Lauren's soothing touch. And Lauren looked so anxious, so frightened, to see Bo leave. She didn't understand that Bo would only change into something Lauren could love… But Bo never wanted to see such a worried expression cross Lauren's face like that.

"Your Wolf is the dream of a woman," Lauren's voice was all Bo could hear, even past the whistling of the wind through her hair and the drone of cars on the streets far below, "a woman we all love."

It was all she ever needed: to hear Lauren say that she loved her. It wasn't the same, but it was close. And Lauren watched her with such a mix of hope and fear that Bo ached to wipe the fear away and replace it with something else, something better. "Come on," Lauren encouraged her. She held her hand up for Bo to take, and with doubt twisting her face and the ache to see a smile grace the perfect lines of Lauren's face again, Bo dropped her hand into Lauren's and stepped down. Lauren's arms were around her instantly, and the sensation of her skin brushing against Bo's sent a wave of warmth rushing through her. It was such sweet relief to hold her again, to feel her nose brush her cheek, to smell that sweet, intoxicating scent again.

Lauren leaned in close and tilted her head up a little, and their lips met briefly in a moment that would never end for Bo, but was over far too soon, and Lauren breathed back in the Chi she'd taken at the police station hours before to heal. Bo wrapped her arms around her mate, loved her with everything she had left in her, and knew that she'd failed. But there was nothing more beautiful than the relief in her small smile, in the tears that rimmed her eyes, and the way she brushed her fingers against Bo's cheek.

* * *

**Sadness and regret swirled low in the void that clung to and pulled around Bo. Dyson, the Wolf with the sad, faded, soulful eyes, the old soul that watched and loved her from the shadows, with the rich and complex history, followed her here. His memory danced around her, taunting and eerie, like the dance of some macabre skeleton jerking and jolting in reanimation.**

**But she hadn't known! How could she have known that Dyson loved her, when his love had been taken from him by the Norn, so that he could lend her his strength the first time Bo ever faced her mother in battle? He had made it so utterly clear to her that his love for her was gone, and that it was never coming back.**

**But she should have known. Bo, the Succubus, should have seen that change in his sexual aura. It should have been obvious, and while it had been understandable for Bo to have missed it the first time, when the Garuda still threatened, Bo should have seen it after, in the weeks before she went into Hecuba prison to ferret out the warden's corruption.**

**But Bo had been blind, and selfish, and so completely self-absorbed. The cold and the blackness and the emptiness that surrounded her dug deep into her skin, into her soul, and met the cold and blackness and emptiness within her. She was a Succubus, and secrets of the heart lay always bare to her. And yet, in her ignorance, she'd caused Dyson so much pain. If Bo could curl into a tight, little ball and sob in this cold, meaningless void, she would have. Her heart felt raw, and she ached with regret.**

**She said that she had fought for his love, that she had done everything she could to keep the old Hag from coming between them in the way that she had. But that wasn't true, and Kenzi had shown her that so easily, so effortlessly, by coming to the Norn's tree and chopping it down with a chainsaw. Small, weak, human Kenzi, who stood against the Norn with nothing to gain but slightly better odds that her best friend would survive in the battle against the Garuda. Bo had been too cowardly to face the Norn for a love she stood to gain, that she had felt herself. So who then, was the better woman, the stronger woman?**

**Cold nothingness swirled around Bo, her dry eyes throbbed in the blank darkness. When Dyson had gotten his love back, she'd been angry at him. Furious, that he'd gotten his love back and hadn't told her, that he'd dared to keep even one more, self-preserving secret from her. And she'd doubted his feelings for her, doubted that the love he'd gotten back from the Norn was a love he felt for her. Wolves only mated once, she remembered that he'd told her that. And that, Bo knew without a doubt, had been real.**

**Bo was broken, and tainted. She knew she didn't deserve the love she had, from Dyson, from Kenzi, from Trick. She'd abandoned them all, hurt them all, for her selfish needs and wants. And the cold that pulled and whined and tore at her now wasn't only the void of whatever this frozen hell was, but the cold that came from somewhere deep inside her. She groped blindly in the darkness, searching, yearning for anything to take her out, to bring her away from herself, from her memories, from her inadequacies, and found nothing.**

**Perhaps, when Tamsin had come for her soon after her victory over the Garuda, Bo ought to have gone with her willingly. Whatever death the Morrigan and the Dark had in store for her might have been better than the abandonment and betrayal and cruelty she'd passed out to everyone she knew and loved. And it **_**had**_** been her that had drained that Fae into a coma. She had fed from him, without thought, without restraint, without remorse, and it had only been a clue, a foreshadowing, of the rest to come.**

**But she had resisted, indignantly, self-righteously so. She lied to everyone she knew, had sworn that the feed hadn't been hers, that she'd had nothing to do with the nameless, faceless man she'd left to die in the alleyway beside the Dal moments before she'd gone to be with Lauren. She'd lied, not to protect the people that she loved, but to protect herself from the incriminations, the anger, the consequences she didn't want to face. She'd lied for worse reasons than Dyson had for omitting the truth, and she'd been angry with him for it. And what would his honesty have earned him, truly, when it was all said and done? Probably nothing more than the anger and resentment Bo had felt when she'd discovered his returned feelings for her.**

**Well… Tamsin may not have taken her to her reckoning then, but the darkness would claim her now. If there was anything other than nothing in this lack of existence, Bo thought her face now might have been wet with weak, pitiful tears. And she let go, let herself be eaten away by the black void that crowded her, that crawled across her numb consciousness, and assaulted her with memories and images and more hellish, heartfelt creations that only a guilt-ridden conscience could muster.**

* * *

**Author's Note: **

Gogobolo: Haha, you know, I hadn't made the connection until you commented about the crickets, but now that you mention it… Honestly, I've always absolutely loved the sound of crickets. It always meant that summer was coming, or that it was finally here, and it's always been so incredibly soothing to me. Not to mention how amazing it is for such tiny creatures to make such a huge sound just by rubbing their legs together. Yeah, these past few chapters have been very sad, very heartbreaking. I'm a hardcore Doccubus shipper, but I've always had some sympathy for the hardships that Dyson is put through regarding his relationship with Bo. I get annoyed with him when he gets all self-pity-sad-face-moody-breath, but he does go through a lot of hurt, and for very much of season 3, really bottles it up and deals with it on his own. It's sad, and I think he deserves a little empathy for the hurt and loneliness he has to endure.

Leader: Thank you! I can't take most of that credit though, the two scenes that chapter was derived from were so perfect, in my mind, that I borrowed heavily from the dialogue and the acting the amazing Anna Silk and Kris Holden-Reid put into it, and just put a spin on it to make it fit. As for Dyson following Bo into the Dawning as her Hand… I was incredibly disappointed to see that. Honestly, I found that it was mainly a vehicle for Dyson finally professing his love for Bo, and I thought it was a little silly that he felt the need to follow her into her Dawning to do that, especially since, in the episode after, he said he knew that Bo would save his life in the end. I don't know that any of it was necessarily what broke Lauren and Bo up, though. There were some serious waves rocking their boat long before that. And I think that Bo's eventual acceptance over Lauren's enslavement to the Fae, not to mention all the Fae stuff that happen to them that Lauren feels entirely helpless over are really what broke them apart. It's got to be incredibly hard to watch the woman you love so much go through trials that you can't help with, can't relate to, aren't even invited to be involved in, and to watch her dive into danger you can't save her from when so many others can. Add to that Bo's trivialization (whether out of insecurity, jealousy or otherwise) of everything that defines Lauren among the Fae, everything that makes her valuable… it's harrowing. It's heart and soul-breaking.  
As for Dyson's and Trick's attitude toward Lauren's death: this is something that bothered me a lot too, at first, until a friend of mine pointed out to me that not only have these guys lived lifetimes, have seen humans born and die within what might, to them, seem like the blink of an eye, but it's also an ugly truth that you can't ignore, not matter how much you might love Lauren and Bo. Lauren will die, and Bo will live on, for many, many lifetimes, if things progress naturally. It sucks, I absolutely HATE to think about it. But Bo will outlive Lauren, and it's not fair for Lauren to demand that Bo be faithful to her and only her even after she dies, and she never would demand it, so why should we? Lauren would want Bo to be happy, to experience love again, even if it's with Dyson, after she dies. Like Ciara said to Dyson in 'Brother-Fae of the Wolves': "You can't betray a ghost", and perhaps what he meant was that when Lauren does eventually die, and Bo is ready to be in a relationship again, Dyson will be waiting patiently and faithfully for her. Which is actually quite sweet and romantic. He's offering to wait a lifetime for the love of his life. He's not going anywhere.

KD99: It was hard to watch in season 3. But Dyson and Bo needed closure, which they never really got even as far back as season 2. Bo is going to continue having some rough times, since this is her Dawning and it's going to really pick her apart as a person, but the next set of chapters should be a little more light-hearted, and I have pumped up the Doccubus in it as much as I could without changing the essence of the story. It is going to be the last really 'light' set of chapters before things start to get really dark and ugly for her, but there are some beautiful Doccubus chapters up ahead too. Honestly, it's hard, I want Bo and Lauren to REALLY get through their crap so that they can really truly start to move forward as a couple. As it is now, there are so many obstacles, some of which are being wholly ignored and others that they seem to be eyeing warily, but not doing anything to overcome. And it's going to be a hard road to paradise, but it's a paradise that I want to last forever. I'm so pleased to hear you're going to be sticking with it, and I hope that the final resolution really fills you with big, warm, fuzzy feelings via Bo and Lauren. :)


	9. Chapter 9

It had taken all of Bo's patience to get through the day. The halls were swarmed with kids, the bell rang, sweet and jangling and shrill, in her ears, and her heart soared with it in a swarm over the raucous laughter of teenagers, where the fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered and the air crackled with the intensity of a Friday afternoon.

Friday was Bo's favorite day of the week. It had little to do with the weekend that stretched endlessly before her, then ended far too quickly before Bo had even realized it. It had little to do with the simple pleasure of sleeping in on a Saturday morning, or the Sunday morning cartoons Bo would never admit she still woke up early to watch.

Bo's favorite thing about Friday was the afternoon she spent in the company of her best friends, her crowd. It was the instant addition of Kenzi at her place, commandeering the radio to tune in to her favorite stations and pilfering snacks from the fridge. It was the leery, sometimes unpleasant, always perverted attitude that Vex brought with him, dressed in outrageous costumes and trading mascara secrets with them. It was Dyson, sometimes calm and serious and broody, sometimes full of life and joy, always with a laugh that boomed and reverberated across the walls and made butterflies explode in the pit of Bo's stomach. And it was Lauren, quiet and nerdy, smart, subtly funny, whose shy smile stole Bo's breath away and whose quiet strength and loyalty went always unappreciated and rarely noticed. It was Gramps too, who stayed home from the gastro-pub he'd opened to spend quality time with his granddaughter.

This was how it had been, for years. Ever since Bo and her Gramps moved to this busy little steel-and-cement city, running from a life that didn't want them, that had rejected them. And Bo loved it. She loved being worshipped by her people, loved being the center of so much positive attention, loved the power it gave her to be surrounded by so many people that loved her.

Vex was the first to arrive after Gramps had driven Bo and Kenzi home. He showed up at their doorstep, half-dressed in a ridiculous stripper police-man uniform, meant, no doubt, to irritate the hell out of Dyson, who had dreamt of being a cop since he was in diapers. He grinned and struck a pose with a flourish, his heavily made-up face alight with mischief, before bouncing inside without the invitation he was sure he would receive. Kenzi cackled at his audacity, Bo stifled a laugh behind her hand, and Gramps raised an eyebrow, pursed his lips disapprovingly, and said nothing from behind the bar in the open kitchen, where he started to prepare dinner for his granddaughter and her friends.

Lauren arrived more quietly. She slipped in at Bo's invitation, with a bashful smile that sent Bo's heart fluttering and a look that lingered sweetly, appreciatively, at the way Bo's mouth moved when she said hello. Immediately, she took her place beside Gramps in the kitchen, helpful and hard-working and polite, an expert with the paring knife and one of the best adolescent cooks Bo had ever known.

But when Dyson appeared, finally, an hour later than he usually did, he was not alone.

Bo, Kenzi and Vex had disappeared upstairs to Bo's room, trading secrets and teasing each other mercilessly. Their taunts and dirty jokes turned physical, and Vex crossed a line that had blurred and faded from the countless times he'd stepped over it. And, like the countless times Vex dared to poke his toe over that little line, Kenzi and Bo were beating him over the head with pillows. Their laughter was loud, it almost drowned out the hard, muffled 'whump' of the pillows they battered across Vex's hunched shoulders, and the slender, outrageous boy struggled to squirm out of reach of his attacker's goose-feathered weapons. He was shouting, trying to be heard over the girls' victorious laughter, and swallowing his own howls of mirth in between breaths, and the din was so loud the thin walls shook with it and Bo was sure she could hear her Gramps slamming on the ceiling downstairs with a broom in an attempt to quiet them down.

So they didn't hear the muffled sound of four boots on wooden stairs, or see the mess of crazy blond curls arranged in a halo around Dyson's face when he stepped around the corner into Bo's bedroom. They only stopped when Vex crashed into Dyson's chest in his scramble to get away from the hard-hitting pillows and the girls that chased him around the room. Dyson caught the smaller boy in his strong arms and held him there, an expression of surprise etched across his suntanned face, and a burble of surprised laughter echoing in his deep chest.

Bo and Kenzi dropped their weapons to their sides, totally out of breath and their faces breaking with matching, triumphant grins that stretched from ear to ear.

"Hey guys," Dyson's deep, clear voice echoed in the sudden quiet, and a smile broke across his handsome features, "glad to see you haven't started the fun without me."

Bo straightened, the grin on her face widened, and she tilted her chin down and greeted Dyson with a smile she hoped looked flirtatious and sexy. She started to shrug and opened her mouth to respond with an equally witty remark, but was interrupted by the striking blonde that strode into the room behind him, and was stunned into immediate silence.

She was tall, almost as tall as Dyson, with a build both strong and feminine at once. She put her hands on her hips and cocked them, and corn-yellow hair shimmered in a wave around her face and slid over her shoulders; thick, soft tresses of molten gold. She stared through eyes that glittered coolly like emeralds – or maybe the deep, green waves of the ocean – at Bo, her gaze smoky, seductive, confident.

"So _you're _the Bo I've heard so much about," she offered in greeting. Her voice was sharp and quick, it cracked through the air like a whip and demanded a certain attention Bo was instantly jealous of.

Bo dropped her pillow to the floor. The grin on her face fell into a confused, suspicious frown and she stepped around Vex, he'd squirmed out of Dyson's strong grip, to confront her visitor head-on. Energy crackled in an invisible, tense wave between the two girls, sharp and stinging, and Bo was fascinated, and a little intimidated, by the tall, beautiful, green-eyed girl that stood with all the confidence and poise of a warrior before her.

"Yeah, I am." Bo took in the sight of her visitor, her fingers clenched at her sides with her discomfort, and she pressed her lips together, determined not to show even the slightest sign of weakness or submission in the face of her new competition. "Who the hell are you?"

* * *

_Tamsin had completely healed after their ordeal at O'Meara's mansion the day before. Bo could clearly see that. She walked with no sign of pain or injury, held her back straight as though her ribs hadn't been broken and her torso completely battered by Duncan's heavy fist and spiked cast. There wasn't a scratch or bruise that Bo could find on her flawless, porcelain skin. There was fire in her eyes, a rich, green flame that burned with the intensity that had both captivated and intimidated Bo the first time she'd met her._

_Bo couldn't judge her for it. She didn't know how Valkyries fed, didn't know if her perfect health was the result of a feed like Bo's, or simply something that came with being a Valkyrie. Bo couldn't judge her for it because her own perfect health had come as a result of the sinful feed she'd made on her Thralls, right before Maia had cut their ties to her, right after she'd taken back herself, her conscience, from the darker Succubus that seemed to live, to bide its time, inside her._

_But Tamsin was hale, and healthy, and strong, and she stood between her and the door that would lead her to Dyson's room at the Ash's Compound, where Lauren was watching over the Wolf's healing ankle._

"_Well look what the cat dragged in," Tamsin drawled. Even when she drawled, her voice was sharp and quick. One eyebrow rose in an exaggerated arc, a smirk flashed across her features, and Bo had a sinking feeling in her gut that Tamsin was not in as helpful a mood today as she had been the day before._

_Bo strode purposefully straight up to Tamsin, as though she might barrel right into the Valkyrie if she didn't step out of the way quickly enough, but stopped abruptly only inches away. Tamsin had one hand on her hip, the other dangled by her side, and she looked so strangely appropriate to the stark, glowing white hall, the naked walls and the pristine, Spartan atmosphere, that Bo herself felt somewhat out of place. "Does Lauren know you're here?" the smirk on Tamsin's face rang clear in her voice, and it crawled under Bo's skin unpleasantly. "I bet she doesn't," the Valkyrie's lips twitched upward, Bo struggled to contain a scowl at the way those words set her stomach churning with guilt. She had to grit her teeth to contain her growing irritation and impatience with the hard, cocky blonde that stood in her way._

"_What are you doing here, Tamsin?" Bo ground out. Her hands formed into fists on either side of her, she crossed her arms over her chest to force them to relax, but only succeeded in displaying her discomfort more clearly. "You're Dark, and neck-deep in Light territory. Isn't it against Fae law for you to even be here?"_

_Tamsin only shrugged nonchalantly and smiled down at Bo. "Dyson's my partner. I get a pass for things like this."_

_Bo pressed her lips together in response, silenced for the moment by the resentment, distrust and gratitude that struggled for dominance in her regard for Tamsin. Both women only stared at each other for a moment in the glowing white light of the hallway, one's face a smug mask of indifference, the other's a storm cloud of troubled irresolution. The silence stretched between them until both their expressions softened and faded into passivity. _

"_How's he healing?" Bo finally asked. She nodded her head toward the door that stood shut behind Tamsin, behind which there was no noise to interrupt the uncomfortable quiet of the corridor they stood in. When Tamsin's sharp green eyes softened and the smirk on her lips twitched into a concerned frown, Bo felt herself relax immediately. Tamsin was neither cold, nor heartless – Bo had seen that in the way she'd knelt beside Maia and Seth on the rough, stony floor of O'Meara's dungeon two days ago, the way she'd held Seth and brushed her fingers through the Seer's hair and kissed the palm of her dirty, diseased hand. It was all a façade, an act, meant to deflect and protect the softer side of the Valkyrie that Bo had only caught glimpses of if she watched her carefully._

"_He's Fae," Tamsin shrugged again, and her hand fell from her hip to dangle expressionlessly at her side. "He's walking. The Doc wants him to keep off it, but you know Dyson."_

_Bo nodded, her brown eyes fastened on Tamsin's thoughtfully, and dropped her own arms to her sides as well. "I do," she murmured, fascinated by the way Tamsin averted her gaze uncomfortably from Bo's intense stare._

_Uncomfortable silence stretched between them again, this time unfraught by aggression, only tense with the lack of anything they could possibly say. They were supposed to be enemies, but it was hard to remember why, with Dyson in common and how much Tamsin had done for her over the past two days. It mystified Bo that Tamsin would stand beside her, would fight for and with her, would risk her life for her, when Tamsin wanted Bo in chains and in the Dark's custody so badly. _

_Bo continued to stare at Tamsin, unconcerned with the heaviness of the silence, completely absorbed in her consideration of the woman standing before her. Tamsin's eyes darted from the walls to the floor and back again, suddenly looking as out of place now as she had seemed in place earlier. Pity and sympathy stirred suddenly within Bo for Tamsin, unaccepted as she was by both Dark and Light. Bo had been told by Trick how Tamsin had defied Evony's macabre desires and claimed Maia for her own, a decision that had put her in very dangerous territory where the selfish, petty Morrigan was concerned. But she was hated by the Light too, simply for having allied herself with the Dark._

"_How's the short-stack?" _

_Tamsin's voice startled Bo out of her reverie, she regarded Tamsin with a look of suspicion and interest, then sighed and dropped her own eyes to the floor._

"_Sleeping. Eating. Healing," Bo paused and shrugged her discomfort and insecurity. She hadn't spoken to Kenzi yet about what had happened over the past two days, and she was terrified that Kenzi might never forgive her for the way she'd abandoned and forgotten her._

_Tamsin must have picked up on Bo's fears. Warm fingers brushed along Bo's bare arm awkwardly, then settled over her shoulder, and when Bo glanced up into Tamsin's face, she found a well of sympathy there she would never have expected from Tamsin. "She'll forgive you," Tamsin's voice was soft, even wistful. There was such loneliness in the line of her mouth and the depth of her eyes, Bo found herself wondering when last Tamsin could claim to have had a true friend. Bo wondered for a moment if perhaps she'd misjudged the Valkyrie._

_But just as suddenly as Tamsin's warmth appeared, it was gone. Green ice misted across the surface of her gaze and her fingers fell from Bo's shoulder back to her hip. The smirk that never failed to get under Bo's skin curled across Tamsin's lips and the Valkyrie raised her chin aggressively at Bo once more. "Even if you are a murderer," there was poison in Tamsin's words, and an underlying layer of anger and resentment. _We're not friends_, it reminded Bo, _we're enemies_._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Leader: You know, in regards to Bo's draining that guy outside the Dal at the beginning of season 3, they didn't really give us a hard conclusion to it. But I think they were trying hint at Bo's impending Dawning by giving us a glimpse of sudden immoral aggression and hunger – to show that it was something that started way back at the beginning of the season, rather than somewhere in the middle, during her freak-out with the Manta. And it showed us a little something subtle about Tamsin's character too, so while they didn't REALLY conclude that little story line, I felt like it came to a satisfactory close for me. So yes, the guy whose face she sucked does get a small, not as black-and-white mention here, a little in the last chapter to show-case Bo's fading morality, as well as a device to give a little depth to Tamsin's character. I might do more with it later, but for now, it is what it is. I think though, the writers at LG are letting the story marinate for a while, judging by the turn the story is taking in S4 so far. As for Bo not mentioning Lauren as one of the people whose love she doesn't deserve… just wait for that. We haven't gotten to that part of the story yet. We haven't really gotten to Trick's 'part' of the story yet either, but she did 'kill' him in chapter 4, and that's slowly eating away at her too. And it's totally valid to dislike the way Dyson and Trick treat the delicate issue of Lauren's mortality – it's something a bit over-harsh to discuss, and the blasé way they talk about it gets under my skin too.

KD99: I could probably write a 10-page paper on all the issues and obstacles Lauren and Bo have to face to date. Monogamy is a HUGE deal, and one I will definitely be addressing, not fully in this book, but completely in the next. Anna Silk and Zoie Palmer do such a fantastic job of making the relationship feel authentic, and it's something I want to honor by doing the same. As for the last chapter with Dyson: as much as I love and respect Bo as a character, she is incredibly selfish, and in order for her to grow, she needs to see it. And it's not just her selfishness she's beginning to see here, she's also beginning to realize all over again how much she's neglected the people around her that she cares about. It's something that I think is directly correlated to her selfishness, but it's something she needs to come to terms with too. She's gotten to the point where she's in the dark about the things going on in everyone's lives. Now, regarding what she's going to do about the way Dyson feels: I actually just finished writing up that chapter a few nights ago. It's something that gets dealt with in the final few chapters of this story, and it doesn't get a huge mention, but there is a light-bulb moment there for Bo. It actually has more to do with Lauren than with Dyson too. Don't worry, I think I did a good job of resolving it, and I think you'll be pleased with the way that I did, fingers-crossed. No worries, the big Dyson stuff is done. He gets mentioned and makes cameos for the rest of the story, but his part is finished. I've saved the best for last, and we're not there yet, but Dyson's story is done.


	10. Chapter 10

"Why did you even invite her over?" Kenzi's voice carried across the courtyard to where Bo and Lauren sat under a tree, enjoying their lunch. Two pairs of brown eyes flickered across the expanse of thick, green grass to the small group that meandered slowly toward them. Kenzi, empty-handed again, walked side by side with Dyson, and hand-in-hand with Nate. Hale walked distractedly on Dyson's other side, busily texting on his phone. Everyone but Kenzi carried backpacks slung over their shoulders, and Nate dangled a small brown paper bag from the tips of his fingers carelessly.

"She's new here, Kenz. I was asked to show her around. We have all the same classes," Dyson's voice was laced with exasperation, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. Bo could see them glint in the early afternoon sun from where they sat. It always cheered her to see how well two of her best friends could get along, especially since most of them couldn't. And Dyson and Kenzi were very often at each other's side, almost as much as they were at Bo's, despite the age difference. "You can also thank Mister Class President here for that one," Dyson elbowed Hale in the ribs, throwing the inattentive boy slightly off balance and drawing an indignant shout and a little attention from him, "he was the one who nominated me to play tour guide."

Hale glared at Dyson. Bo could see the way he gripped his phone as they drew nearer, his knuckles were almost white with the intensity of it. Bo knew how much Dyson had missed hanging out with his own best friend, and she had a feeling Hale knew it too, but his new duties as Class President had gotten him little more than anger and resentment from the rest of their gang for the way he always seemed to ditch them for more important stuff. From the way he gripped his phone and shifted his stony glare from Dyson to Kenzi, Bo could see that this anger and resentment really bothered him.

"She's new and she's upper crust. She's also Marquis' new teacher's pet, and it wouldn't kill you to make a little peace with the principal every now and again, would it?" Even at a growl, Hale's voice was melodic.

"Negatory!" Kenzi retorted, almost gloatingly, "She might have been Marquis' pet a few weeks ago, but rumor mill has it," Kenzi's voice hushed to a loud whisper, and she swung her head from side to side in a theatrical show of checking that no one else was listening in, "she's on Marquis' shit list now."

Dyson and Hale both scoffed at that. Hale's phone didn't even dip, and his dark brown eyes never left the glow of its screen.

"Whatevs!" Kenzi's face flushed pink with annoyance. Now the little group had finally joined Bo and Lauren under their tree in the school's courtyard, and Kenzi stopped inches away from Bo's feet. Nate and Lauren exchanged silent, sympathetic glances – they always felt like outsiders among their band of friends – and shared long, exasperated sighs when Kenzi's voice rose a notch with her frustration, "I know it's true. I saw her in Marquis' office on Monday, and that vein in the middle of Marquis' head, the one that pops out whenever she gets pissed, looked like it was having babies!"

Bo couldn't help but laugh. The image of their principal's face flushed with anger, with that huge vein throbbing away in the middle of her forehead, was comical. Especially when that fierce, terrifying face wasn't faced in her direction. Lauren and Nate rolled their eyes at each other, and Dyson snorted in amusement. Only Hale still seemed entirely defensive, and that seemed to goad Kenzi on even further.

"I could hear her shouting from the hallway," Kenzi's tone had softened, at least, but the matter-of-factness had not left her voice, and she still bristled visibly at Hale, still busily tapping away on his phone on Dyson's other side. "And then it got super quiet. But I leaned against the door. I don't think I've ever heard the word 'expelled' sound so threatening before."

Hale finally raised his eyes to look at Kenzi. One eyebrow cocked at her, as if to say 'and what's your point?'

Kenzi's jaw jutted forward stubbornly and her eyebrows knit together in annoyance and exasperation.

"She's bad news, Hale! And you brought her straight to our doorstep!"

Hale threw his hands up in defeat, his own face flushed with his rising temper and he simply strode away without even an angrily shouted goodbye. Bo raised an eyebrow at Kenzi and her lips twitched into a small, sympathetic smile.

"She's not that bad, Kenzi," Dyson grunted as he flopped to the ground beside Bo, "and why do you even care if Tamsin gets herself into trouble? Her expulsion would just get her out of your way."

Kenzi sighed dramatically before dropping to the ground across from her best friend, and Bo had to tune out the rest of her argument with Dyson over the new girl, for the sake of her sanity. Tamsin had been more than just a pain in Bo's ass ever since she'd shown up at Bo's doorstep. She'd been almost a downright terror. But she was friends with Dyson, and she was tough, and there was something in Tamsin's cool green eyes that somehow prevented Bo from really, truly hating her.

So Bo only tossed the last half of her sandwich to Kenzi and curled into Lauren's side. A warm, lingering kiss pressed to the side of Bo's head, and with Lauren's arm draped across her shoulders and the bright sun falling in dappled patches of warmth across her skin and glowing copper past her closed eyelids, Bo felt herself relax. Lauren's voice was a soft murmur in her ear, Nate's rough laughter a gentle accompaniment to her girlfriend's dry, witty humor, and Kenzi's loud, sharp arguments and Dyson's deep, bass tones, despite the aggressiveness in the first and the tense defensiveness in the second, were comforting as well.

Tamsin could have been a million miles away now, or she could have been a hairs' breadth away, for all Bo would have noticed. All there was for her was the soft grass under her, the rough, hard bark behind her, and the strong, affectionate arm that fluttered around her neck every time Lauren gestured when she spoke.

And until the last five minutes of that sleepy forty-five, Bo dozed, blissful in the sun and in the arms of her new girlfriend, surrounded by the people she loved. But when she finally opened her eyes to gather her things around her and leave Lauren with a kiss that lingered sweetly on her lips before heading off to her next class, Bo found that in the spare few minutes before the bell rang that her world would turn on its axis, again.

Everyone split up to get to class. Bo strode by herself across the expanse of the emptying yard, past long wooden picnic tables and other students gathering their things to leave. She was the last to step through the doors into the dimly lit hallway, and as she turned to her right on her way to history, was pulled back sharply by a hard, powerful grip around her arm. Bo spun on her heel, startled and annoyed, to find Tamsin's hard, chilling green eyes staring straight into her own. A frown pulled at the edges of Tamsin's mouth, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her nails dug sharply into Bo's skin. Bo yanked her arm out of Tamsin's tight grip with a growl and massaged the little half-moon impressions Tamsin's nails had left there.

"Tamsin, what the hell?!" Bo's voice was sharp, and louder than it should have been, considering they were about to be late to class. Strangely, Tamsin's glare vanished, and a cold, acerbic smile curled across her mouth.

"Let me ask you something, Bo," Tamsin tilted her head, as if in curiosity, "how long have you and Lauren been an item?"

Tamsin's question threw Bo completely off guard. She cocked her head back, and her brow furrowed in abstract confusion. "What?"

The smile on Tamsin's face stretched into a cool, mean grin. The blonde took a step closer and raised her phone, clutched in her hand. The screen glowed with a picture, and Bo squinted at it to make it out.

"Does your precious girlfriend know about the kid you assaulted a few nights ago?" Tamsin's voice was jarring now, harsh and crackling with intensity and threat. The picture on the screen suddenly drew clear, and Bo snatched the phone from Tamsin's grasp to stare at it in horror. It was a picture, rendered in painfully sharp detail, of Bo pressing another scrawny boy against a wall. Her lips were forcefully pushed against his, and her fingers were digging tight into his jacket. The boy's arms were thrown against the wall, as if he had been struggling to get away from her. He looked upset, sick and terrified, even in the low contrast of the image.

"No…" Bo rasped sharply, "I didn't – "

"Didn't hear him when he said no?" Tamsin's voice rose with her anger. The snapping, measured footsteps of the school's security guards rapped against the school's stained tile floor, and Tamsin and Bo sidestepped back outside, under the shade of a tree and just out of line of sight of the security coming to inspect the noise. When the danger had passed, Tamsin snatched her phone back from Bo's grasp and shoved her with enough force to send Bo sprawling to the grass. "He's my classmate, Bo!" Though Tamsin's voice had quieted, it was still sharp and ringing to Bo's ears. Panic flooded Bo's system, she barely remembered that night, she'd been so drunk off stolen liquor and high from the joint she and Kenzi had shared. But it was the night she and Lauren became a couple. Bo's face paled, and she felt cold even in the warmth of the spring air around her.

"He's not pressing charges," Tamsin continued, her voice softer now, but the glint in her flashing green eyes was chilling and hard, "he's too scared. Of you. But you know what I think?" Tamsin knelt to the grass as she talked, so that she could see Bo eye to eye, to convey and press upon her exactly what she thought.

Bo straightened on the grass, and glared defiantly back at Tamsin. She remembered this kid now, this all-knowing, stigmatizing son of a bitch who'd condemned her for who and what she was. He'd deserved every last minute of that searing kiss, and Bo believed that with every fiber of her being. His disgust might have been for Bo, but his fear was of the way he'd risen and stiffened against her.

"I think you can shove it," Bo spat back angrily, and threw her weight against the blonde bearing down on her. They both tumbled to the grass, but Bo pulled herself up quickly to glare down at Tamsin furiously.

That was all anyone had for her: judgment. They never knew the whole story, never cared to. Tamsin didn't know Bo, didn't know what she was born and how she was raised, didn't know why she'd done what she'd done to be thrown out of her last school. She didn't know the struggle she'd been through with her mom, didn't know why they'd abandoned each other. But judging by the frigid awareness in her stare, she knew that it had happened. And that was the way it was with everybody. They only ever took one look at her and decided they knew enough to judge her, and Bo was sick to her stomach of it. She snarled at Tamsin, who scowled up at her furiously, and turned away. The door slammed against the wall of the school in its hurried attempt to get out of Bo's way, and Bo stalked off down the hall to class and left Tamsin alone in the courtyard, glaring furiously back at her.

* * *

_It was late, and Bo was tired. She'd spent most of the day in training, preparing for her Dawning, and Bo's shins throbbed and her body ached and her mind was numb with exhaustion. All she wanted was to go home and take the world's longest nap… _

_A pair of soft, warm hands settled over her eyes. Bo recognized that touch and the sweet, faint scent of soap and honey immediately, and her tired expression broke into a smile so wide it threatened to split her face in half. Her heart beat excitedly in her chest._

"_If you are a cricket, I will totally kill you," she joked, and the hands over her face slipped away with the warm breath that brushed the back of her neck. Bo spun around, her heart in her chest lighter than it had been all day, and dropped her jacket onto the stool beside her. Lauren grinned at her through tightly pressed lips, her eyes bright and wide with uncontained excitement. They'd spoken only minutes ago over the phone, but seeing Lauren now was infinitely better than waiting until later, for their planned dinner and movie._

_Lauren gave a muffled squeal of excitement that brought another light laugh to Bo's lips, and bounced with anticipation. _

"_I was on my way over when I called – I just – I couldn't wait to see you," Lauren was talking at a mile a minute, her light brown eyes glittered in the bar's low light and her cheeks were flushed. _

"_Aw, hon, me too," it lightened Bo's heart and brightened her day to see Lauren, always, "but I'm so tired." Her limbs ached and felt heavy with the exhausting exercise Trick and Stella had put her through today. Lauren was still bouncing, she was absolutely twitchy with her delight._

"_How'd it go today? Did you kick ass? You look tired, are you a little tired?" Lauren's face scrunched a little in her concern, but the excited gleam in her eyes never left. Bo took a step back, a little startled by Lauren's zeal, and more than a little worried._

"_Are you on crack?" Bo had never seen Lauren like this, Lauren's lips pressed together in that huge, thrilled grin she'd come in with and her eyes grew wide again with exhilaration. She rubbed her hands together, and Bo peered at Lauren, mystified by her happy restlessness, and reached out to try to still Lauren's spiritedly twitching hands. "Seriously hon, have you been doing experiments without your respirator-thingy, because I –"_

_While Bo spoke, Lauren spun around for a piece of paper behind her and eagerly unfolded it before pulling it up in front of Bo's face to read. "Look," Lauren's voice was quiet, but there was such eager anticipation in it that Bo only stared at her over the edge of the paper anxiously for a minute before taking it. It was a letter, and Bo frowned down at it for a moment longer before reading it out loud._

"_We congratulate you on being the recipient of the Moses-Gomburg Distinguished Award for Outstanding Contribution in the field of the – "_

"_The free radicals!" Lauren's voice was tight with her excitement when she interrupted Bo. She brushed her hair away from her face and grinned again, a smile so wide Bo thought it might actually break Lauren's face in half. She nodded excitedly, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, and beamed at Bo. It all went completely over Bo's head, all she understood was that Lauren was being given an award; but that and Lauren's obvious elation about it were all that really mattered. Bo glanced down again at the letter, damned if she would miss such an important event in her girlfriend's life._

"_But the banquet is tonight!" Bo exclaimed, her stomach sunk a little with the realization she wouldn't get the quiet evening she'd been hoping for._

"_I know," Lauren breathed, her expression turned serious now, "I wasn't their first choice, the award was originally going to Michael Shnood," she said his name with such disdain, and her lip curled into a sneer that brought a grin to Bo's face. _

"_I take it his science is sucky?"_

"_He's a total fraud," Lauren agreed, her words racing again so fast they threatened to trip over one another, "he completely fudged his radical numbers, it's all over the message boards!" And then Lauren bounced again and popped her lips and her whole face brightened with her excitement, and Bo was completely taken by her infectious exhilaration. "Oh, Bo, I knew they'd have to choose another recipient, but I didn't think it would be me!"_

_It was adorable how excited Lauren had gotten herself. Bo had never seen her like this before. It warmed her from the inside out, and Bo grinned at her lover: at the shy, modest, crazy-smart, beautiful woman that bounced and twitched in front of her. How could a quiet night eating dinner and watching a movie possibly compare with seeing the sexiest scientist in the universe being celebrated? Lauren's enthusiasm was beyond infectious, it brought a little energy and vitality to Bo's tired body and such cheer to her tired spirit. They planned their evening quickly, and with Lauren still calling over her shoulder about dresses, and wearing them 'together-like' and a feverishly exclaimed 'I love you', Lauren left. Bo stood for a moment longer in the now empty Dal, a smile lingering still on her lips from the phrase that was so uniquely, eccentrically Lauren, and gathered her jacket. _

"_Well, well, well, aren't you two cute."_

_The voice that cracked through the bar's empty silence startled Bo, and she spun on her heel to face the green-eyed blonde that leaned against a support beam. Tamsin grinned at her, amused by her surprise, with her arms crossed over her chest and one ankle crossed over the other. She straightened a bit when Bo lowered her jacket again and stepped a little closer to her._

_Bo had never seen Tamsin dressed so nicely. It was a bit of a shock to her, Tamsin was almost always dressed for work, in slacks and sensible shoes that allowed her to move freely, and tank tops and jackets that allowed her to conceal small knives and throwing stars in straps across her torso. But today, she was in a shimmering black top, and an onyx pendant glittered darkly in the half-light of the bar. Black glass beads dangled from it down her chest. And she was in tight-fitting jeans and sleek low heels. Definitely not on-duty detective clothes. Bo threw her jacket on around her shoulders, untempted to stay any longer than she had to._

"_Who are you all sparkly for?" Bo was in no mood to play games, and the expression on Tamsin's face looked snarky and bitchy and teasing – a mix of moods that already exhausted the elation of seeing Lauren so happy and excited._

"_I'm taking you out to lunch," Tamsin responded as if this were obvious. Her hands fell to her hips, a classic Tamsin pose, and her lips curled again into that cocky grin that always crawled under Bo's skin._

_Bo scoffed at the absurdity of Tamsin's statement and shrugged deeper into her jacket._

"_And why would you want to do that?" Bo doubted Tamsin could give an argument compelling enough to tear her away from the short nap she still planned to take before Lauren's banquet. But she had to admit, she was curious to hear it._

_Tamsin's grin faded for an instant, her chin dipped and her hands fell from her hips. Anxiety flashed through Bo as she watched Tamsin's good humor melt away into the shadows that played under the tables and chairs scattered around them._

"_Because everyone's been lying to you."_

* * *

**Author's Note: **

Guestie: I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying my version of the Dawning. The Dawning of the series fell a little flat for me, I felt like it had been built up so much, and what we wound up with was Dyson going through Bo's Dawning, without role-reversal, learning, anything more than the faces of Dyson and Lauren switching. When I'd originally finished book 1 and was considering book 2, the Dawning wasn't going to be much more than a footnote, before I realized that I wanted to try my own hand at reconstructing the Dawning and giving it meaning. I think Bo has been slowly devolving in her own way ever since the beginning of S3, not simply as Fae, but as a person, and I wanted to bring attention to that too. There's a lot coming in the next 20 or so chapters of this book, we're opening a can of worms, even as Bo begins to realize just how little she resembles her old self anymore. I think Trick lies and manipulates out of habit, not because he means ill in any way, at least not toward Bo. Having been a king for such a long time can develop certain self-defensive tendencies that never really leave you, and I don't think even he has realized just how much he keeps from Bo that he really shouldn't. I'm so happy to have you on board!

Leader: You know, I hadn't realized how similar that chapter was to that episode in S2! Good call! It was a great episode, such a blast to watch. Dyson was just such a laugh. And I think no matter which alternate universe you throw Bo and Lauren into, they're going to have a powerful attraction to one another. I like to think their love transcends all of that. I read a wonderful fic earlier this year that was a series of vignettes of Doccubus in alternate realities and alternate universes, and in every one, they fall in love. It was a story I wholly buy into. You're right, this set of chapters is about Tamsin, who I find such an interesting and complex character. She's got a serious attitude, but I've always loved a girl with a bitchy side to her. She's such fun. And the layers, my goodness! I try to reveal a few of those more hidden layers in this set of chapters, because as easy as it is to see Tamsin as a villain, I find her just as lost as the other girls in the series, and I feel like she's almost just like Bo, but way ahead in the future. I think that once upon a time, she had some really wonderful ideals, stood up for the little guy and did her best to be good, but lost that somewhere along the way, and finding Bo and her gang is sort of bringing her back to that. Honestly, she's one of my favorite characters on the show, and Rachel Skarsten is such a phenomenal actress. I think if I were to compare Tamsin to an animal, I'd probably think of her as a hedgehog, or some type of creature that's all thorny and prickly on the outside, but so soft and cuddly on the inside.


	11. Chapter 11

The sun had long set, shadows flickered where candles were lit and light glowed steadily where lamps stood on tables or hung from the ceilings. Bo wrestled with her geometry homework, tired and irritated by it already, though she'd only gotten through the first three problems on a long, double-sided sheet of them. Math would be the end of her, she thought, if Kenzi didn't finish her off first.

Kenzi nibbled on another cookie, her shoulder pressed against Bo's and her long black hair brushing over the homework Bo was trying so hard to get done. Cookie crumbs scattered across the table and under Bo's pencil, leaving grease-stains everywhere if Bo wasn't quick enough to brush them away. And Kenzi had been nattering on for ages now about the newest styles in fashion, the 'mean girls' in her class and her conviction that the mystery meat served at lunch on Tuesdays was actually just tofu, boiled in pig fat.

"I mean, come on, it's not even the right texture," Kenzi's voice was a sharp whine in Bo's ear, and she tried again to shrug it off and focus on the equation she needed to find the length of the hypotenuse on this stupid, ugly triangle. "It tastes like pork, but it's way too squishy, even for processed meat…"

The clock ticked loudly in time with Kenzi's voice, a reminder that it was already past ten o'clock at night, well past time Kenzi went home, and Bo still had her English assignment to read and analyze. Bo was usually late on assignments, and sometimes, she never did them at all. But she'd promised her Gramps that this quarter, it would be different, and she would get back on the honor roll. Even if it killed her.

And at this rate, it probably would.

"Kenzi, it's getting late," Bo interrupted through clenched teeth. Her shoulders were still hunched over her binder and textbook, and her pencil tapped impatiently over her dirty sheet of paper, stained with eraser marks and smeared lead and cookie crumbs. She tilted her head to glare at her best friend, who raised her eyebrows back at her.

"So?" Kenzi's mouth was full of cookie when she spoke, and Bo and her homework were once again battered by the cookie crumbs that flew from Kenzi's mouth straight at them.

"God, say it, don't spray it!" Bo's voice was growing sharper and sharper with her impatience. She tossed her pencil away from her, frustration and anxiety rising in a wave through her belly to her chest, and she angrily swiped away the crumbs that had landed on her face and stuck there.

"Well, aren't you gonna at least walk me home?"

At least Kenzi had swallowed her mouthful before asking. The petite adolescent dropped the rest of her cookie on the kitchen island and rose with Bo. The stools they sat on scraped irritatingly against the tile flooring, and Kenzi's impossibly high stilettos snapped against the floor when she followed Bo out of the kitchen and down the narrow hallway that led to the front door. Bo grabbed Kenzi's jacket from the hook, and with her face a stormy mask of annoyance and frustration, shoved it at her.

"I have homework to finish, Kenz. I love you, but you have to go," Bo had at least finally managed to control the tone of her voice. It was no longer sharp and cutting, but it was still a little cold. Kenzi's expression turned first frightened, then beseeching, and she didn't pull her jacket on around her.

"But Bo, those girls at school, I told you –"

"You'll be fine, Kenzi," Bo sighed, exasperated and at the end of her rope, "they didn't follow you here, they won't follow you home. You're a big girl, you can handle a couple of bullies."

Kenzi only stood and stared at Bo for a moment. Her pale, periwinkle eyes bored through Bo with an expression of mixed hurt and betrayal, and Bo almost regretted her earlier harshness. But Bo had faith in Kenzi, she was a tough kid and could handle herself. Right now, Bo needed to handle her homework. And Gramps wasn't around tonight to babysit, or to take Kenzi home; he had work to do too, at the pub he'd worked so hard to get open.

Mischief flashed in Kenzi's eyes. She straightened a little, her shoulders stiffened and her fingers tightened around her jacket.

"I'll help you with your homework," she offered, and stood her ground.

Bo almost laughed. Even if Kenzi really could help her with her homework – the subject matter for which she wouldn't learn for another year – she'd most likely get sidetracked within a minute of just reading it and start talking again about boys and shoes and how everyone at school was so jealous over the jacket she'd just 'acquired'. So Bo only crossed her arms over her chest and raised one eyebrow skeptically at her best friend.

"No, you won't." Bo's voice was decisive. She'd already made up her mind, and her mind was already on the mountain of homework she still had to get done, and it was already almost ten thirty. That stupid clock in the hall just kept ticking those far-too-short minutes away.

"But Bo, I keep trying to tell you – "

"You've been telling me, Kenzi," Bo almost growled out her frustration this time. Her hands fell on Kenzi's shoulders and she bodily moved Kenzi closer to the front door. Its paint was beginning to peel, and Gramps had been going on for weeks now about how Bo should help out around the house and repaint it for him one of those weekends. "You've walked home alone before, you can do it again. You'll be fine, okay?"

Kenzi stared back at her doubtfully, but knew she wasn't going to get any help out of Bo that night. Bo hated the insecurity and anxiety that frayed the edges of Kenzi's face and paled her cheeks just a little. But Kenzi finally drew her fancy new black leather jacket on around her shoulders and shrugged well into it. It was finally spring, but it was definitely still cold out, especially at night. Kenzi's hand was cold when it settled over one of Bo's on the doorknob, and a sharp edge of worry speared through Bo for an instant before she remembered the thirty problems left of her geometry homework and the three chapters she hadn't yet read in "The Scarlet Letter" and shoved that worry away. Kenzi would get home just fine, and Bo would finish her homework once she'd gone, even if it took her all night.

"Okay," Kenzi said uncertainly, and twisted the doorknob. The door opened with a long, laborious creak and cold air rushed in to replace the warmth of Bo's run-down little home. Bo watched her best friend carefully zip up her jacket, the zipper flashed cheerfully in the dim lamplight of the hallway, and the petite, ballerina girl shuffled across the threshold. Yellow lamplight mingled with clear, crisp, white moonlight on the smooth lines of Kenzi's new jacket, and made the black material glow a little. The shiny buttons on its front pockets glinted, the little skulls etched into them grinned eerily at Bo, but Bo only stared at Kenzi's dismayed face across the threshold of her home.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Bo prompted. It was cold, standing in the doorway. She shivered against it, and watched while Kenzi gave her a tight smile and slowly turned away. Bo heard a mutter in response, but Kenzi's words were so softly spoken, she couldn't make them out. Kenzi's heeled boots snapped on the pavement. Bo didn't wait for Kenzi to disappear into the deep, cold shadows of night before pulling the door shut and turning back to the math and English homework that had put her in such a foul mood all day to begin with.

* * *

_Tamsin had taken Bo out to a Dark bar for lunch. Aside from it being literally a bit darker than the other Light Fae bars Bo had frequented over the last couple of years, it really was no different from any other bar Bo had ever been in. And it was certainly lighter than the dance club Vex had owned, once upon a time. _

_Bo didn't really know what she'd expected from a Dark Fae bar. Maybe peanut shells on the floor and smoke in the air, or more fist-fighting and brawls next to the bar area, shattered glass on every surface, and bigger, burlier men and cruel-faced women. There was certainly an air of bad attitude, and the looks that Bo got from almost every patron was scathing, condescending, or downright hateful. But Bo wasn't here for the other patrons, and didn't care if they wore those glares until wrinkles scarred their faces and their expressions were frozen into masks of anger and hatred. She was here because Tamsin had looked at her with such frank concern at the Dal and told her that everyone she knew, everyone she loved and trusted to tell her the truth, had been lying to her._

_And the Dawning was close, Bo could feel it marching like ants under skin, and it made her itchy, and anxious._

_When Tamsin finally settled into the seat opposite hers, two cold bloody Caesars in hand, and passed one over to her, Bo offered her a questioning stare in return and leaned back into her own chair. Tamsin was already sipping at her drink and made no move to explain herself._

"_What am I doing here?" Bo's voice was sharp with her impatience. She'd already suffered through a long, grueling day, and she was missing her enormous king-sized bed and the blonde she wished she could wrap her arms around. She wanted to get this over with, quickly._

_Tamsin sighed. It was deep, and long, and heavy, and it set Bo on edge. Carefully, Tamsin put her drink down on the wooden table between them, her fingers lingered on the stalk of celery that rose from the edge, and finally looked Bo straight in the eye. The expression she conveyed sent a shiver of anxiety down Bo's spine and made the Succubus sit up straighter._

"_There's a good chance you won't make it through the Dawning," Tamsin's voice didn't hold its usual dark, witty sarcasm. It was naked in its honesty, and Bo felt herself tense with the worry that gnawed at her, prompted by Tamsin's frankness and undecorated words._

"_That's not what Trick said," Bo retorted, "or Hale. Or Dyson."_

_Dammit, they wouldn't lie to her! Not about this, not about something as important, as life or death, as Bo's Dawning. Would they?_

_Tamsin leaned forward, her voice took a turn for the aggressive and a scowl flowered across her face._

"_I have listened to them bullshit you all week," her anger was clearly evident in her voice, "the Dawning –," Tamsin hesitated. The anger that had knit her brows and tightened the lines around her mouth softened, and Bo thought she looked almost frightened. Tamsin's lips pressed together, and those faded green eyes, bright in the dim light of the bar, flashed with an expression that Bo could not read. "The Dawning is the most brutal thing you will ever go through, times infinity."_

"_Are you trying to throw me off my game?" Resentment, sharpened by the bitter pangs of fear Bo could not suppress whenever anyone mentioned the Dawning, bloomed through Bo's chest, hot and burning, "Because this is my life we're talking about here!"_

_Tamsin only stared at her for a long moment, her gaze intense and unwavering. It was unsettling, and Bo couldn't decide now who to believe: the Valkyrie that had tried to sabotage and ruin her ever since they'd met until only a few weeks ago, or the family she'd found, who loved her, who'd saved her time and again from others and from herself._

_Finally, when Tamsin spoke, her words were softer and calmer, "I'm trying to help you."_

_And then Bo understood the expression she'd seen flashing across Tamsin's face only seconds ago. Rarely had Tamsin ever been unguarded around her. She'd always been on top of her game, always held her cards close. She was sharp, and witty, and scathing in her remarks and accusations, and she only ever had insults and indictments to offer, especially where Bo was concerned. _

_But ever since Bo had faced down O'Meara a little more than a week ago, Tamsin had seemed different. From the moment she'd helped her find Lauren deep in the Fomor's dungeon, up until the next day, when she'd broken into his mansion to break her and Lauren out, Bo had only ever seen Tamsin's hard, cold exterior. And she'd thought that there was nothing more to Tamsin than exactly that. But the way Tamsin had knelt by Seth's side, had kissed and comforted her, the way Tamsin had defied the woman she'd sworn her fealty to in order to protect a lost, frightened girl… Bo had begun to learn to see Tamsin in a different light._

_The expression Bo had seen tear across Tamsin's face in the grainy, flickering light of the bar had been one of unguarded worry._

"_Why?" Bo's voice was sharp and suspicious. Perhaps Tamsin did have a gentler side to her. Perhaps Tamsin was capable of caring about someone, even loving them. But why on earth would the battle-hardened Valkyrie feel anything like that toward her, when they'd been nothing but enemies since the day they met?_

_Frustration ripped Tamsin away from the table she leaned on. She leaned back in her chair and scowled heavily at Bo, and her eyes danced on every surface in the bar except Bo's face. "Why what?" she snapped, and her hands slapped onto her thighs before Tamsin finally looked Bo in the eye again._

_And Bo could see there the insecurity that Tamsin struggled so hard to hide._

"_Why do you care?" Bo's voice was soft now. The rough sounds of people laughing, of silverware snapping against plates, of loud metal music thrashing through the thick air and intense ambient conversation almost drowned out her words, but Bo knew that Tamsin had heard her. Her green eyes fell for a moment before meeting Bo's again, and Tamsin's lips were pressed so tightly together they were a thin line of white against her pale face._

_Bo almost thought that Tamsin would respond with indignant indifference, or a hotly-spoken denial. Perhaps the Valkyrie would just up and leave, give up on this strange, strained heart-to-heart the conversation, or argument, had turned to. But Tamsin stood her ground, sat solidly, tensely, in her seat and leaned forward again. Her arms crossed over each other on the table, they pushed away the bloody Caesar she'd forgotten in the thick of their messy squabble, and cool, faded green eyes, saturated with frustrated worry, held Bo's own._

"_Because it's not right," Tamsin's words were quietly spoken, but Bo could feel the edge of steel that underlay them. "Because everyone should stand a chance against their own Dawning, and their placatory bullshit is sabotaging you."_

"_Is that why you helped us two weeks ago, when I was bat-shit crazy and Kenzi was lost and Lauren was kidnapped?" Bo's words were sharper than she'd intended, but her heart was pounding in her chest with the realization that Tamsin wasn't the hard, arrogant bitch Bo had made her out to be. The expression of anger and resentment that had pulled her mouth into a frown and knit her eyebrows together softened, though, into one of interest and consideration._

_Tamsin's lips pressed together again, momentarily, before she breathed out another heavy sigh._

"_Because it was right?" Bo pressed on when Tamsin didn't respond, and her tone was softer than it had been. She leaned in closer to Tamsin, trying to hold the eye-contact Tamsin looked like she wanted to break, and to hold on to this odd truce that seemed to have sprung up between them out of nowhere._

"_Because he was wrong," Tamsin finally answered. She licked her lips and leaned back a little, though now her shoulders were hunched with resignation and she looked tired and old._

_Maybe Bo had been wrong too, all along, about Tamsin. Bo considered the woman sitting hunched in front of her, and really thought about everything she thought she knew about her: the tall, tough, vindictive detective, who'd allied herself with the Dark and worked alongside the Light – even if it was a peace-project cooked up by the Elders to promote goodwill and amity between the two sides. She'd been dogged in her investigation into the Fae that Bo had drained almost dry right outside the Dal – so long ago now Bo felt it had been years since it happened. She'd pursued Bo like a dog after a bone, had been itching to get Bo into the custody of the Dark, and for what?_

_For justice. She'd gone against the Morrigan's orders to leave Seth's investigation alone for the same reason. Had claimed Maia, a human, against her own nature, for the same reason. She'd even come to Bo's side, had risked her life to get Lauren and Kenzi out of that horrible place, to get Bo away from that horrible man, for the same reason. For justice._

_Maybe Tamsin's song and dance hadn't been about getting Bo killed. Maybe it had been about getting justice for the man that Bo had almost killed. And maybe Tamsin's sudden change of heart, and her concern over Bo and Bo's Dawning was true._

_And that meant that the Dawning really was some terrible, terrifying experience that Bo might not get through in one piece. And Tamsin really wasn't the black-hearted enemy Bo had chalked her up to be._

* * *

**Author's Note: **

Leader: Haha, yeah, I guess the college AU gets done a lot, by fans of just about every -dom. I intended this to be more of a high school thing, so I was thinking it was closer along the lines of that other episode in S2, 'Confaegion'. But with less silliness, unfortunately. I think Tamsin might once have been a lot like Bo, and for me, at least, as I was watching those first few episodes with baby/teen/"adult" Tamsin, I felt like she really kind of reminded me of Bo, just a lot younger and more innocent. She's afraid of hurting people, when Massimo tells her that she's killed so many and will kill so many more, she just looks so devastated, and like she'd rather do anything than hurt anyone, and I saw a little of S1 Bo in that. I'll kind of lead you closer to that in the next couple of chapters, because I think this quality in her is overlooked, it's never spoken about out loud or otherwise, but you can kind of see what things are important to her in her behavior in a few episodes in S3. And yes, I'm sorry, Bo does miss Lauren's awards ceremony. I was sad-face about it in the show, and sad-face about it in my story, but that's who Bo's been, and she did miss it for kind of an important reason. I just hated that she lied to Lauren about it. A lot of what you're not seeing in my story parallels the events of S3, and I did take that scene directly from 'Fae-ge Against The Machine'. I added it for a little lightness, to show how much my story is paralleling some of the events in the show, and because Lauren was just so darn 'adorbs' (to steal a word from Kenzi) in that scene. Sometimes I watch it when I'm feeling down, because it cheers me up. ;)

Gogobolo: Yay, you're back! I missed you. ;) I have to admit, Tamsin is perhaps one of my favorite characters on the show. She's so interesting and complex, and there are times I find myself relating a whole lot to her. Not that the way in which I relate to her has much to do with her part in the four chapters of which she stars, but still. She's intriguing, and towards the end of S3, I found myself seeing qualities in her that I felt were understated and somehow missed, by some of the characters of the show and also by my fellow viewers. Maybe it was because I was projecting, and because I like her so much I wanted to give reason for her behavior, but I think what I saw in her makes a lot of sense. So hopefully, when I reveal what I see in her, it'll make sense to you too. Maia is my OC, and so also my baby. So yes, she'll have a big part to play, but it won't be evident until book 3. Tamsin also has a big part to play, in my opinion, but in my mind, she always has. They introduced her as a regular on the show for a reason, and considering the manner in which she was introduced, for her to not have a bigger part to play would seem a bit of a letdown to me. Young Doccubus was fun for me to write, and young Bo/Kenzi was enormous fun for me to write too. I'm so glad you enjoy reading it, because writing it was such a pleasure for me!


	12. Chapter 12

The sun outside was a waterfall of molten gold through white cotton-candy clouds. A breeze drifted through the trees, and Bo could almost hear it whisper through the leaves, a soft, peaceful sigh that bespoke the world's content. It was warm out today, the weather was perfect. The first beautiful day of spring. And Bo should have been outside, enjoying it with her friends, and with Lauren.

Instead, she was stuck on the second floor of her school, behind windows that cut her off from the gentle breeze that swayed through the trees, out of the warm shower of sunlight that shafted through those perfect fluffy clouds, stuck in the mind-numbing, silent purgatory that was after-school detention. And worse: she was stuck with Tamsin.

Bo had to force her longing gaze away from the windows beside her, it was too depressing staring outside at the perfect weather she was not allowed to enjoy. Her stare fell instead on the blonde that sat at the desk beside hers, long agile fingers fiddling with a pencil that scratched short, arbitrary marks onto the lined paper beneath it.

It hadn't been Tamsin's fault that she was imprisoned in school on a gorgeous Friday afternoon on the first official day of spring. Truth be told, she owed Tamsin her gratitude: something Bo had never thought she would feel toward the arrogant, self-entitled senior. And it had actually kind of been Bo's own fault that Tamsin had wound up in detention with her, though Bo had really had no choice and Tamsin really could have just walked away.

Bo's brows knit together and her lips pressed into a tight frown as she considered the girl sitting idly beside her. She hadn't liked Tamsin from the moment they'd met: had decided in her eternal wisdom and experience that Tamsin had had no more sides to her than a simple straight line. She had been cocky, rude and aggressive, petty, and downright nasty from the moment she'd stepped through Bo's bedroom doorway weeks ago until only a couple of hours ago, and Bo had thought she'd known everything there was to know about the older, snarky bad-ass.

But maybe Dyson was right. Maybe there was something more to her. Tamsin seemed to sense Bo's eyes burning holes into her temple and jerked to the side. Their eyes met, bright, electric green to dark, velvety brown, and the pair stared at each other in mixed distaste and fascination.

"What?" Tamsin whispered fiercely, uncomfortable with the way Bo kept staring at her.

Bo only shrugged in reply and averted her gaze. Her fingers played idly together on top of her desk, pale and plain, long and nimble. Her hair fell in a curtain around her face, shielding her from the intense, considering glare Tamsin raked her with.

Until only a couple of hours ago, Bo would have agreed with everything that Kenzi had said at lunchtime almost two weeks ago about Tamsin: that she was bitchy and mean and self-involved. But now, Bo only wondered if it was all just a front for the loneliness of moving to a place where she didn't know anyone, if it was just a façade to hide her insecurities and mask a deep hidden scar left behind by all the people in her life that had hurt her. And Tamsin could have convinced that boy to tell someone about how Bo had attacked him, and, Bo could admit it to herself now, should have. Maybe she couldn't, but the picture on Tamsin's phone didn't make its way into other hands, and for that, Bo was bewildered, and grateful.

The teacher that presided over them cleared his throat loudly, and his chair scraped against the stained linoleum flooring when he stood. Bo glanced up to see him glare over his half-moon spectacles at them both, the top of his balding head glowed in the flickering fluorescent classroom lights and his fingertips pressed to the notched, scratched surface of his desk. He was short and pudgy, with mustard stains dotted over his pilled checkered sweater, and his wrinkled tan slacks were at least a couple sizes too big. Bo thought he taught one of the history classes, maybe on the freshman level, but he was not terribly familiar to her, and she couldn't recall his name.

He cleared his throat again, softer this time, and straightened himself. His hands folded over his belly, and his voice sounded nasally and unexpectedly shrill for such a robust, stocky frame.

"I'll be back in a few moments. I expect you young ladies to conduct yourselves with decorum in my absence. And for you to still be present upon my return," his voice sounded louder than it should have been in the quiet stillness of the nearly empty classroom, and Bo ignored him when he shuffled away from his desk and squeezed tightly through the door, as though afraid they might leap after him and escape through it as he exited. Honestly, she had far more important things to worry about than his approval. Tamsin only waited for the door to click shut quietly before she leaned back dangerously in her chair so that it balanced on two skinny legs and threw her own feet over the slanted surface of her table.

"How're those busted ribs feeling, Succu-lette?" Though Tamsin's voice was soft, it carried clearly to Bo's ears, and they sounded razor-sharp with sarcasm and fake concern. Bo turned her glare from her half-entwined fingers to the golden-haired kid sprawled beside her and shrugged. She'd been lucky, she supposed – the fight had left her with no lasting injuries, and though that last brutal punch to her gut had left her gasping for breath, the only pounding, scalding pain she felt was the one that flashed across her raw knuckles. Tamsin looked far worse for wear, she'd refused to bandage her own bleeding fists and the far side of her lip from Bo was swollen and purple.

"Fine," Bo answered grudgingly. "More worried about Kenzi right now than myself, actually."

It hadn't been a fair fight. Not by a long shot. The girl they had gotten into a tussle with had been backed by four other friends, all tall and broad shouldered, all scruffy, hard-skinned trailer trash kids that had been just itching for a fight. But the red-headed kingpin had liked Kenzi's hard-bought leather jacket, and Kenzi was smaller than most of the kids in her class. She was as tough as nails, but those girls had been twice her size and had outnumbered her five to one. Bo wasn't about to let the beating they let loose on her best friend go unpunished. So she went after them, even if that meant that she went in on odds that were five to one too.

Except, with Tamsin's unexpected support, they'd risen to five to two.

"How's your lip?" Bo looked back up to Tamsin and found her sparkling emerald eyes fastened thoughtfully on her own. Tamsin gave it a moment's consideration, then shrugged. One hand rose unconsciously to her bruised mouth, pressed gingerly against swollen flesh, and she winced from the pain Bo could imagine spearing across her face.

"Tickles," Tamsin shrugged again and dropped her hands across her waist. They both only looked at each other for a long, tense minute. Then Bo sighed heavily and scrubbed her hands over the rough, pitted surface of her desk.

"Thanks for having my back," Bo mumbled, quietly enough she thought Tamsin might not have heard. Truthfully, Bo wouldn't have guessed in a million years that Tamsin would have risked her health in a fight for Bo's defense. But Tamsin hadn't seemed to give it even a second's thought before jumping into the fray. Tamsin's jacket whispered with the shrug the blonde gave in reply.

"I shouldn't have let Kenzi walk home alone last night," Bo growled softly, "this is all my fault. I am a terrible friend."

"Are you kidding me?" Tamsin leaned back further in her chair, it creaked its disapproval at her and tipped dangerously backward so that Tamsin had to drop her feet and grab her desk to keep upright, "my friends wouldn't even fight one bully if she'd beaten me up over a quarter."

Bo's mouth twitched, her eyes rose to meet Tamsin's again disbelievingly.

"Then you need new ones," her voice came out harsher than she'd intended, and Bo instantly regretted her biting tone and the hurt expression that flitted across Tamsin's face almost too quickly to see. But Bo's bitterness and anger weren't directed at Tamsin, and she couldn't help the rage and anxiety that rose and twisted in a tightening spiral in her chest. The chair tipped backward again and Tamsin had to grapple the table in front of her to keep from crashing head-first into the table behind her. It shattered their eye-contact, and Bo wondered absently if Tamsin had dipped it too far back to balance on purpose, simply for an urgent reason to break it. The last two legs of her chair tapped loudly as they fell to the floor, and Tamsin's feet thudded down between them. When Tamsin spoke again, her voice was soft, more sigh than speak, and muttered so that Bo thought perhaps Tamsin wasn't speaking to her at all, but to herself, under her breath, "what's so great about Kenzi anyway?"

Bo considered answering at all. Her gaze fell to her fingers again, and she turned her hands knuckles-up to inspect the angry, raw skin across the top, red and bruising with the close-fisted punches she'd inflicted on the bullies that had dared to hurt her best friend.

"She's uh…" Bo started uncertainly, still unsure of Tamsin's interest in an answer, "she's Kenzi." Bo grinned despite herself as images of the petite, lithe girl flashed across her mind's eye, spunky and grinning wickedly back at her. When Bo turned her gaze back up to meet Tamsin's, the blonde's face was scrunched up in dismissal and skepticism, and Bo felt the sudden urge to really answer Tamsin's question.

"She's smart," Bo continued, her voice gaining conviction, and Tamsin's expression softened into one of wondering curiosity, lined around her eyes and across her brow with the slightest suggestion of wistfulness, "and honest, and kind. And she makes me feel normal," Bo had Tamsin's full, undivided attention now, and the expression that lit Tamsin's bright green eyes seemed almost sad, "and special, all at the same time."

"Oh," Tamsin dropped her gaze. Her arms crossed over her desk and Bo thought she never looked so small and alone to her before.

"She is my sister, Tamsin," Bo's voice rose, now with the angry guilt and self-disgust that swirled in a ripping, furious storm in her chest at the memory of Kenzi's bruised and torn face when she'd finally caught up with her at her locker that morning, "and those girls have been after her for weeks now and I wouldn't even walk home with her!" Bo's voice broke at the end, choked with angry tears Bo refused to shed. Tears wouldn't heal Kenzi's black eye and busted lip, or the shoulder those bullies had dislocated when they'd torn Kenzi's jacket forcefully off her back.

"Silence!" The teacher that had abandoned them momentarily burst through the doorway, his steps hastened from the panicked, angry shout Bo's voice had risen to. He glared furiously at Bo, his colorless gray eyes sharp as daggers and his pouting lips drawn down in a scowl and his brow furrowed in anger at Bo's emotional outburst. He slammed the door shut behind him, and the sound of it startled both Bo and Tamsin into complete and utter silence. The chubby gray-haired man glowered at them a moment longer before stalking indignantly back to his desk and collapsing petulantly into his chair, and by then, he'd lost the attention of both girls completely.

Both girls looked at each other for a long time after that, both sorrowful, one with an edge of self-disgust and self-hatred, the other with a hint of wistfulness and an aching loneliness that seeped almost desperately through misty depths of green.

* * *

**Inertia held her. Frozen breath weighed in her lungs, heavy and sharp, and Bo felt like a thousand shattered shards of ice scattered across bleak, craggy rock. Tamsin should have taken her, should have turned her in, so that Bo could suffer the consequences of her selfish, inhuman actions. Had Tamsin understood that something was wrong with Bo? That her Dawning had awoken a monster in her that Bo was struggling to control? It wasn't an excuse, Bo knew it now, though she didn't have the courage to admit her failings out loud. But Tamsin had tabled that investigation when Bo's impending devolution reared its ugly head. Tamsin should have turned her in, to be executed by the Dark. Should have, but didn't – and in that small act of not doing, of temporary mercy, had been better, had been more human, than Bo had proclaimed to be.**

**Everything she thought she knew, everything she thought she was, was undone. And Bo was a mist across a black, freezing surface, insubstantial and only so much gathered air. Bo didn't know which Tamsin was real, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter because both had done what Bo, in any of these mangled memories and wicked fantasies, had failed to do: protect the people she loved and stand by the values she claimed to have. And Tamsin had gone a step further in both, by protecting someone who'd hated her and standing by values no one believed she'd possessed.**

**For a Succubus, Bo sucked at reading people. It was a vague flutter of a memory that told her so, in the voice of a Valkyrie Bo had never trusted and never liked. What did that say about Bo, she wondered? Who was this Succubus, this woman, who would make such general assumptions based on brief glimpses and alliances she claimed not to care about? Who was this person that claimed to have such virtue and loyalty, but abandoned both for the sake of her own pride and comfort?**

**She'd abandoned Kenzi, had ignored her, had betrayed Lauren and attacked a boy (man?) without remorse. Bo couldn't be proud of that, she couldn't live with that. And the cold that whined and crept around her, that snuck into every crevice of her heart and mind and hooked its frozen fingers into her and whispered soothing, empty nothings to her promised an end to it. If Tamsin wouldn't end her, then this cold, this emptiness, would. If Bo would allow it to.**

**And the Valkyrie that Bo had once doubted, even hated, had become a friend that Bo loved and trusted. She knew her friends had loved her in each scenario she struggled with, but Tamsin had been the only one bold and brave, strong and honest enough, to face and challenge her. Tamsin had been Bo's toughest critic, but when shit got real, she was the one that had Bo's back. The frozen wasteland around Bo deepened and shivered, merged with the emptiness that yawned inside her. She'd misjudged Tamsin, deeply.**

**But that mistake was not irreversible. Bo struggled against the numbing, desperate darkness that clung to her like an ooze to find some hope in any reality in which she might truly exist. She thought none of it seemed real, but all of it must be. Or was it all an illusion that simply seemed real?**

**She could still fix it. She could still repair the damage done, vindicate all of her injustices. Perhaps. Maybe. But the cold froze her fingers, numbed her heart and mind, and all Bo wanted to do was clutch at whatever shreds of warmth her visions and memories conjured and lose herself to them. And the cold promised such repose, such finality to the bleakness that surrounded and ate at her.**

**It would be so much easier to simply not care…**

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hope you've all been having a wonderful holiday season, folks! Happy New Year!

Gogobolo: Haha, I'm glad you like my portrayal of Tamsin so much. It's one of the things I love about Tamsin too, she sees things for what they are, not what she might wish they could be. And she doesn't make excuses. I really admire that quality about her, even while I find it incredibly intimidating. As you may have guessed, this is the last 'Tamsin' chapter. The next few are going to get really dark, and I'm as excited as I am worried to reveal them. I hope you enjoyed the lightness of the last four chapters, I feel like they flew by really fast. Though that may just be the holidays talking, this whole month seemed to just blow away in the wind. I hope you had a lovely Christmas! And Happy New Year!

Leader: Well, these characters are all in their teen phases, so I suppose some growing up is in order. But no matter how old she is, I always felt like Kenzi would never be so clingy and needy if she didn't feel it wasn't necessary. She knew there was a threat, a real threat, and Bo makes her feel safe. I re-watched Faes Wide Shut in order to write the last bit with Bo and Kenzi, but I couldn't transcribe the way that I did for some of the other borrowed scenes considering the age-difference and setting differences. But I suppose Bo might have felt the same way when Kenzi was trying to tell her about her rash getting worse – that Kenzi needed to grow up and be less clingy. As for Bo lying to Lauren about why she couldn't make it to the award's ceremony… I'll leave that up to you to decide if she did or didn't. Honestly, as much as I absolutely hated it, I felt it was an ugly, necessary device to show Bo's immaturity in relationships. She doesn't realize that lying to Lauren was unnecessary, that it was even detrimental to their relationship. It was a stupid, childish thing for her to do, and also really shows how badly Bo is behaving, and how unfair she is to Lauren. The scales have to be tipped in order to be rebalanced. But at this point in the story, whether Bo lied to Lauren about why she missed the awards ceremony is somewhat irrelevant, and we've still got a few more chapters before we get to Lauren's spotlight. Anyway, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas, and Happy New Year!


	13. Chapter 13

Another city. Another job bartending a nameless pub, serving faceless people. The years had run together now, she'd been doing this for so long. She couldn't recall how many years it had been since she'd left home, it had become something she had to really think about.

At first, it had been simply instinct. She didn't know what she was doing, or how she was doing it, all she knew was that she let herself go until she got so hungry she couldn't think straight, and then she'd let the monster take over, she'd hunt, and she'd wake up in another bed with another nameless lover. And they'd be stone dead.

Somewhere along the way, she'd learned how to recognize the pangs of hunger. She resigned herself to the fact that she could not fight her own nature. She could not starve the beast that lurked in her soul. There was no way out of the lifestyle she lived: crashing in abandoned, derelict houses, in condemned buildings, skipping from job to job, bed to bed, dead lover to dead lover. But her lovers didn't have to be innocents. If she had to kill, she could at least choose who died, and she chose the darkest hearts and souls she could find: rapists, thieves, and murderers. She wandered to the seediest parts of town to find them.

She was a bottom-feeder, a cannibal. She fed on those lost, black souls that were just like hers. And finally, she allowed herself to enjoy it.

Bo couldn't remember which city this was. She couldn't remember if she'd been here before. Everywhere she went looked the same to her now. She wiped down the bar's surface with a rag, rubbing the smooth waxed finish with sharp, quick strokes until the wood beneath glowed in the bar's dim light. People milled, talked and drank, and the sounds of their activity was an incessant buzz that hummed in Bo's sensitive hearing. A game was on the TV screen perched over her right shoulder, it flashed in the mirror across the pub from her in bright, staccato bursts of light and color, but Bo paid it no mind.

The strong, heady smells of liquor permeated the air. The rich, wheaty scent of beer remained the most pervasive, a sweet overtone to the subtler aromas of whiskey, vodka and gin. Every so often, a patron dropped by the bar to request another drink, and Bo could smell the alcohol on their breath too. It was acrid and rancid when it mixed with the bitter scent of cigarettes and the pretzels that were served complimentarily at every table in the bar.

"Can I get a glass of white wine? House is fine," the low tenor of a female voice caught Bo's attention. She smiled politely as she moved behind the bar to fill the order and caught her breath upon meeting the tawny gaze of the tall blonde who'd made it. Bo's smile spread a little before completely vanishing, she tensed with the excitement that blossomed low in her gut and made her heart beat heavily in her ears. She poured the chilled wine carefully, as though afraid to spill a single drop. "Also whatever dark beer you have on tap. For my friend," her voice was low, sweet, almost musical, and it made Bo want to lean in to catch every inflection, every sound of every vowel and consonant. Bo looked up again, her sight flickering from the gorgeous blonde that spoke to the dark-skinned brunette that edged onto the stool beside her. They were both absolutely stunning. A shiver of arousal slid down Bo's spine, and she knew, though she had hunted and fed her fill only the night before, that she would have to hunt and feed again tonight, if only to calm the sudden hunger that bloomed warm and intoxicating throughout her.

"Guinness sound okay to you?" Bo couldn't help herself, she leaned across the bar flirtatiously, her grin was teasing and coy, and it brought an immediate smile from both women. A blush crept up the blonde's long neck, and Bo felt the insane urge to trail her lips along it. The brunette's voice was soft when she agreed, and the shy expression in her hazel eyes sent a rush of warmth running through Bo's entire body.

Not for the first time, Bo's resolve to maintain her slim hold on morality wavered. She was tired of the low-lifes she fed on, of the corrupt, tainted flavor their sexual energy was always infused with. She ached to taste the sweeter, cleaner flavors of the innocent and virtuous. But if she lost what tenuous hold she had on her conscience, Bo feared she would lose everything. Her hunger gnawed at her like a dog at a bone, and Bo knew that if she hoped to maintain even a semblance of self-control, she needed to hunt and feed. Tonight.

Bo scanned the crowd in the dim, smoky light of the pub, her eyes never settling on one single person and avoiding the hazel and tawny eyes that first searched hers curiously, then stared deep into each other's lovingly while they spoke. Instead, her gaze drifted sporadically over men and women as they mingled and talked and watched the hockey game with an interest that ranged from mild to severe. Not one of them struck her as special. Not one seemed outcast, seemed too comfortable or too uncomfortable. Not a single one scanned the crowd in the same predatory manner in which she did, herself.

They were all very ordinary, very law-abiding folk.

That was okay. Bo was skilled at finding the rougher parts of town. When her shift that night ended, she would go for a walk. At the end of it, she would find her prey, and hidden within the safe, dark confines of a deeply shadowed alleyway, she would strike, and she would feed.

It had become a point of fascination to Bo how many different guises in which sin and evil would hide. Her only hard and fast rule was that the people she preyed on were those who had preyed on others. Her only exception to that rule was children.

And sometimes, Bo would wonder if there was another like her who would one day feast on her.

* * *

_There was no such thing as complete and utter silence. At least, Bo thought, until you were dead. The air around her was static. No mice or bugs scurried around underfoot in the furthest recesses of the study. There was no whisper of cloth or hair moving carefully around her. Even the clocks had been silenced, muffled under layer upon layer of thick, velvety cloth and tucked away in drawers made of rich, dense wood._

_Everything around her was still._

_Everything inside of her, however, seemed to rage._

_She could hear her own breath, even as she tried to control its flow through her lungs. The harder she tried to control it, the louder her heart beat in her ears, and the stronger the pulse that thudded, heavy and thick, through her veins. She could hear Trick breathe too, though his breaths were far slower and more controlled than hers. Light glowed past her eyelids, and slowly, she opened them._

_She'd squeezed her eyes shut for so long, the orange imprint of the study's dimmed lighting had burned through her eyelids to her retinas, and its negative washed her surroundings in a subdued blue glow. Trick stood before her, his own eyes shut and a peaceful expression painted across his aging features. His arms hung limply at his sides, palms turned slightly outward, and his face tilted marginally upward, as if he were praying, or placating, or – the thought brought a touch of a sardonic smile to Bo's lips – accepting energy from above. His aura was calm, peaceful, and it aggravated the frustration and irritability that scratched and clawed at her like nails on a chalkboard. She just wanted it all to stop._

_The adam's apple that had been perfectly still along Trick's throat bobbed, and his chin lowered slowly. His eyes fluttered open, and his gaze focused immediately on Bo's own. He looked so calm, expectancy waited patiently in those dark brown eyes she'd come to love, to depend on, that shone with pride and adoration whenever they settled on her. Frustration and disappointment burned up from her chest and squeezed at Bo's throat, and her carefully monitored breathing faltered, just a bit._

_She couldn't do this._

"_You can do this, Bo. Walk through the threshold," his voice was so composed, so quiet. It sounded like he might have only just awoken from a deep and restful sleep. He waited, patiently, on the other end of his study, for her to step forward and join him._

_Bo's lip quivered with fearful anxiety. A muscle high up on the left side of her jaw ticked. She raised a hand in front of her, experimentally, and met no resistance. Bo knew there were still inches between her fingers and the threshold, even as she lowered her hand again and took a shuffling, insecure step forward. The thin, stiff twigs and branches that wound around the doorway shivered on either side of her, though no wind had stirred to move them. Bo wondered if they could sense her uncertainty, and irrationally, if they were laughing at her._

_One more step would take her over the threshold. Bo took in a deep breath, attempting one last time to calm the roiling emotions that shook and battered her tired soul, and stepped forward._

_Her toes met a solid wall of angry, rejecting energy. Her knee bounced painfully against it, her head crashed violently into the mystical force field and agony shot through her heart, almost physical in its power and force. It flared across her skin, the heat of it scorching every nerve ending, and sending her reeling backwards into the wooden furniture once again._

"_Goddamnit!" she swore, shoving herself away from the desk she'd crashed into and throwing her hair back out of her face. Her mouth was twisted into a disgusted snarl, and her eyebrows knit into an angry, snarling frown. "I can't do this, Trick!" she shouted, her frustration bubbled up to the surface and pinched at the tensed muscles along her shoulders and neck._

"_Yes, you can," exasperation breathed through Trick's words, he sighed heavily and shifted to the table beside him. A large tome sat upon it, propped up by other books stacked untidily over the rough, worn surface. The old bartender brushed a finger against the page it was opened to, reading over again the passage he'd found to help his granddaughter through the first trial of her Dawning_.

"_No, I can't," Bo stomped around the twisted wooden threshold and made her way to the door. Humiliation burned low in her belly, futility and helplessness twisted in her chest and her eyes stung with the frustration that had finally bubbled to the surface with yet another failure to add to all the ones she'd tallied since the start of the day, and if Bo were truthful enough with herself, the start of her adult life._

_Trick's head shot up at the thick, sullen tones of despair that echoed in Bo's words. He darted towards the doorway that led up to the bar, his powerful arms spreading across the threshold to bar Bo's exit, and his eyebrows shot straight up his forehead, crinkling his skin and leaving a look of admonishing expectancy on his face. When Bo stopped suddenly before him, he reached across to grasp her hands in his own. Her skin was so soft and young between his leathery old fingers, he rubbed his thumbs soothingly over her knuckles and tugged gently at her hands to pull her gaze to his. It hadn't escaped him the way his granddaughter's shoulders shook subtly with strain and disappointment._

"_Bo," he spoke softly, and when Bo's dark brown eyes finally met his, he gave her a small, warm, comforting smile and her hands a gentle squeeze. "You can do this," he reassured her. He understood her fear and her doubt. After everything that had transpired over the last few days, he would have been surprised and not a little worried if Bo wasn't affected by the events that had shaken not only her, but everyone around her._

_But Bo was strong. Not simply as a Succubus, but also as a woman. Trick had faith that Bo would succeed, that she would triumph in her Dawning and come back to the people she loved, that loved her, an even stronger woman than before._

"_Let's try it again, okay?" he peered up into Bo's tired brown eyes, smiled supportively and gently led her back to the table upon which they'd spread their copious amounts of research. Bo followed reluctantly, she spread her hands over the tome Trick had opened to the page about the Dawning and leaned over it. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and around her face, hiding the resigned, weary expression that stretched in thin lines across her tired features, and sighed heavily. Trick's hand, placed gently over her back, felt warm and reassuring. "Don't think," he intoned quietly, his voice a murmur in Bo's ear, "just put everything behind you. Focus on the now – "_

"_Shift consciousness and achieve an effortless merging of action and awareness, to allow yourself to cross through the threshold," Bo interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended and her head bobbing in time with the words that had become the mantra of this futile, frustrating exercise. She pushed herself off the table, once again allowing her exasperation to rise to the surface, and shoved the heavy book away from her. Bo's jaw clenched, she struggled to calm herself._

_But she was so scared._

"_Bo," once again, Trick's voice penetrated the thick haze of anxiety that hung in a cloud around Bo. Her eyes met his, but instead of the calm patience Bo had been expecting to find there, she found worry and an apprehension that reflected her own. Once again, her hands were engulfed in his, and he gently turned her to face him._

"_I know," she replied, interrupting him once again. She sighed heavily, her weariness felt like a physical weight across her shoulders. She wished she could just go home, crawl into bed and forget anything had ever happened, that anything was happening now, like a little child that was lost in a sea of change and confusion. Stubbornly, she drew herself up again and looked Trick directly in the eye. "I can do this," she repeated his mantra to her, her voice soft, but determined. She had to do this, for everyone else's sake, as well as her own. For Kenzi's sake, for Trick's, for Dyson's and Lauren's. _

_She had to do this. Failure was not an option._

* * *

It was cold. Bo drew her full-length jacket closer around her, drew the leather tightly across her chest to shield herself from the frigid breeze that blew through the empty streets. She avoided the flickering street-lights that pooled at regular intervals over the cracked, broken sidewalk, and watched her breath solidify in a hazy, pale cloud around her face as she breathed. Softly, she recited the address she'd overheard the beautiful couple from the bar give their cab-driver. Every whisper of the apartment number, of the street name, sent a stab of covetous jealousy through her. She could charm them, go home with them, take her fill from them. Bo couldn't acknowledge it, even in the dim, flickering streetlights she passed under, but hidden deep within her subconscious, Bo knew she was quickly unraveling.

Somewhere in the distance, a siren sounded. A cat yowled behind a trash dump further along the street. Her evenly measured footsteps clicked quietly on the filthy, badly maintained asphalt. The lights of the buildings that ranged around her, slumped together untidily and crouched sullenly against the world, were sporadic, dim and far between. It was late enough that it was early, hardly the best time for a hunt.

Bo followed the sound of the siren as it cried through the streets, it faded into the icy air, but Bo followed it all the same. This was the right part of town, the part where people forwent the Tasers and pepper-spray and went straight for knives and guns for protection. Every gritty surface was covered in graffiti, more gang tags and violent messages than the colorful, meaningful street art that showed up downtown. Bo shivered into her coat and walked quickly, she could feel eyes watching her from alleyways along the street she prowled, wary and watchful, calculating, predatory.

But she felt no fear.

The urgent, undulating call of the siren cut the air with its shrill cries again, it gathered in strength and volume as she neared the ambulance's destination. Bo hadn't known exactly where it would be, but she was experienced at this now, could make good, educated guesses as to where these police cars and ambulances were headed. She wasn't always right, in fact, she was wrong more often than not, but trying to track them down had become an interesting game, a way to pass the time while she hunted. And very often, it would lead her to the best hunting grounds in the area.

Blue and red lights flashed in dizzying, staccato notes on every surface, throwing spastic, thrashing color on the buildings, cars and streets around her. Bo's ears rang with the screams of the police and ambulance car's sirens, and she dropped into a crouch behind an enormous, beat up, black SUV. Her hand settled on the frozen, scratched metal of the back bumper, and she hissed against the icy pain it spread through her fingers.

Two policemen held a woman against their car, her wrists were bound in steel cuffs that shone in the painfully strobing light. Her hair hung in lank strands down the sides of her head and over her shoulders, concealing her face and looking dull and lifeless and greasy. Her clothes hung loosely over her thin frame, and her skin, bare from elbows to wrists, was sallow in the bright, screaming light. EMTs pushed a pair of gurneys to the ambulance, the bodies in both were covered head to toe in body bags. One lawman patted his accused down while the other scribbled onto a clipboard. Both were armed, their guns gleamed sinisterly in their holsters.

Finally, the sirens shut off. Silence reigned, thick and heavy through the night. It felt even louder to Bo than the wailing that had preceded it. Only the lights continued to flash, sporadic and revealing in bursts throughout the street. The ringing in Bo's ears prevented her, at least for the time being, from discerning the muffled words that passed between the policemen and the EMTs on the scene. But their tone of voice was factual, casual. They did this all the time.

Carefully, Bo took stock of her surroundings. The darkness around corners was thick, denser where the seizing lights couldn't reach. But Bo caught the subtle gleam of eyes peering around corners, the indistinct glow of skin as it moved through darkness. The cops had missed one of their suspects, and judging by the low, crazed laugh that burbled from the handcuffed woman's shuddering body, had only just come to realize this. They both stared at their prisoner in shock, their hands flew to their guns, and Bo heard the snap of clasps unfastening and the click of the safeties as they came off.

Bo felt a thin, humorless smile stretch across her lips, dry and cracked in the freezing air that stilled expectantly around her. She slipped around the SUV she hid behind, creeping through the shadows across the street to the alleyway in which she'd espied the cautious movements of the woman's partner. Her movements were fluid, she stalked closer to the unsuspecting human that stole away from the flashing police lights, and heard the sound of rushed footsteps as they pattered away into the darkness.

They were too far away now for the searching, vigilant police officers to hear them. The ambulance had shut off its lights, and Bo could hear the crunch of its tires as it pulled away. Bo had to hold her breath and press herself close to the alley's wall as it drove past her, but only for an instant before she broke into a run after her victim.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

Leader: Well thank you! To hear that you think my version of the Dawning is better than the show's is HUGELY gratifying! I'm honored! Honestly, I hate the idea of Bo doing anything at all to hurt Lauren. Even when it's for growth. I adore Lauren, I'm Team Lauren even more than I'm Team Doccubus. So yeah, I'm with you 100% about absolutely despising the fact that Bo lied to Lauren for no apparent reason in Fae-ge Against the Machine. I hate the hurtful things that Bo does at all, even in my own story. But these are unfortunate facts of life, and without enormous, horrible mistakes like it, characters can't grow. I'm not okay with Bo lying to Lauren the way she did in Fae-ge Against the Machine, under any circumstances, but for the sake of character growth, I've accepted it. I hope it's something Bo learns from in the series as well. And I accept that Bo is going to do things I dislike in my own story, for the same reason. So absolutely, 1000%, I'm with you on that front. Lauren's spotlight is great. It's bittersweet. It's my favorite part of this whole 'book' too. I really hope you like it as much as I do. All but one of the chapters is longer than any other chapter in the book, as far as I recall. They were also some of the hardest chapters for me to write, for many various reasons. We still have Trick's spotlight before Lauren's, I saved the best for last. Anyway, we're sneaking steadily closer to the first of our rock bottoms here. Thank you for sticking with me, I'm always eager for your reviews, I look forward to them every week. =)


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